Carousel
by Fantastical Queen Ebony Black
Summary: COMPLETE! AU Gaara’s life was a silent mess. Then he found there was a lot more to see than just sadness, as somehow, he found Neji. But Neji has some secrets of his own. We keep spinning, gaining speed, a little faster... NeGaaNe [SasNar, ShiTem]
1. We, Those Sick andor Tired

**_Carousel_**

Chapter 1: We; Those Sick and/or Tired

**Rating**: PG-13 (Teen), because it's shounen ai, cussing, mentions of alcohol, drug use, etc. Rating may rise much later in the story.  
**Pairing**: NejiGaaraNeji**  
Official Side Pairings:** SasuNaru, ShikaTema  
**Genre**: Drama/Romance

This is a challenge fic from my friend, Kokuei no Onchuu. One day at our lockers, we were discussing Naruto pairings. I think I mentioned something about GaaraxNeji, so she challenged me. It's been a long time in the works, but finally, the first chapter is here.

**A Later Note: **It's been two years since this first chapter was written, and I'd like to drop in once more to admit mistakes. I've now had the chance to use an actual darkroom, and know the my dark room scene was rather inaccurate despite how vague I was. Also, I have Naruto call Sasuke 'Sasuke-teme', don't I? I'm horrible! 'Teme' is actually a very rude form of 'you', apparently. Very sorry for all of this (and some of my characterizations, oh lord...).

**Disclaimer**: Nope.

"Those unable to think themselves falling in love usually are those who fall the hardest."

A pause, and another spoke.

"That's stupid."

"It's poetry, Kankurou." Temari sighed, holding the book closer to her. The other boy glared, as they continued their trek down the sidewalk. Just the three of them.

"You should read some," she continued in a superior tone, "Then you might learn to be grateful."

"Grateful? Grateful for _what_? Our parents are dead; Dad's been gone a few months now if you haven't noticed, Temari. So, besides that bastard's death, what the Hell do I have to be grateful for?"

"Shut up! Gaara is here too, you know!"

"And what does that mean to me, eh?" the older boy turned to glare at he red-head trudging along behind them. "The pipsqueak don't talk, anyways."

Slowly, emerald spheres raised their direction from the pavement. Black rings outlined them against pale skin, as fires alit within. Though no words were spoken, the boy's message was clear.

Kankurou turned back around with a gulp. Temari glanced fretfully from one to the other. From her point of veiw, things couldn't be more messed up. Her parents were gone, and her siblings were crazy. Maybe she was crazy too!

"I'm sure Gaara appreciates the poetry."

"Keh. He's too young."

The boy didn't even seem to notice they were talking about him. But inside, he was listening closely. He liked hearing his siblings talk. It was better than silence. It was as if the day was just another day.

'You must be this tall to get on the ride. And have two tickets. That rules me out.'

"Try to have fun at school, Gaara," Temari mustered once they'd finally reached the junoir high school. The one spoken to didn't say anything in return. He sinply ventured off their course, and stepped through the gates. The two eldest left him then for their own school, though he wasn't any more alone than he had been with them there.

Every day at school was a blur. Go to class, eat lunch, more class, go to foster home. That was about it. He never bothered to talk to anyone, and no one talked to him. It didn't even come as a surprise no one bullied him. The teachers never called on him. He was just there. A ghost, for lack of a better word.

And when people did bother him...

They always did, once and a while...

They never did again. They usually didn't bother anyone again.

Most days after Gaara went 'home', he sat in the room he shared with Kankurou. Temari had her own, where she and her few friends would giggle away. It was both fortunate and unfortunate they'd all been placed together.

"Many hands make light work!" Their foster mother, Mariko had told them, "This way you can work together to get things back on track."

What track?

Were they on some sort of track to begin with?

Every week, each one saw their own councillor at the community center, because the cheerful, but poor Mariko couldn't afford much else. Aside from that, they tried to pretend life was normal.

Normal?

It most certainly wasn't.

But that day, the day after Temari had stayed up all night reading her new poetry book, the day Kankurou heard Gaara speak for the first time in rather long time, that day...

That day, things got even weirder.

o

'There are a lot of messed up people in the world. Some just look insane, others you can tell it from talking to them. It's the ones that are both you have to watch out for.

'That's my category.

'Just look around you. There are a lot for messed up people than you probably realize...'

At the back of the class, Naruto was content with poking his bunsen burner with his pencil. This was one of the many reasons the school had so many fire drills. Beside him, a boy with raveny hair glanced around nervously, while lightly bobbing his head along with the death metal blaring from his headphones.

'I'm not sure what classifies being messed up. But those two are close.'

A girl resting her head on the desk looked happily up at headphone-boy, blushing. Occasionally she giggled, or flicked her hair. Once she even asked for a pencil. He gave her an eraser, but she just giggled, used it, and handed it back. Another near her fumed, and doodled in her notebook. Most of these doodles were rather violent, and involved the Flirty girl dying, whilst the Doodler kissed Headphone-boy.

'Girls aren't messed up. Most of the time, they're just being girls.'

The red-head whose broad mind contained the thoughts stared absent-mindedly out the window, watching the sky darkening with rainclouds. His eyes were wide open, reflecting a challenge no one dared accept. Fingers curved against his alabaster cheek, a dark scar decorating his forehead.

Soon he became bored with the gloomy world outside, and decided to survey the classroom. Nothing had changed for about three minutes. Rampant chaos called 'Our teacher is five minutes late'.

Across the room, another was doing the same. For a second, the boy caught Gaara's eye with his own milky ones. He nodded slowly, time fluctuating strangely. Gaara squinted at him. He'd seen the boy before. But he hadn't actually _seen_ him before.

It was strange.

Gaara felt a loud thump, and looked away.

It came from inside of him.

He blinked a few times, feeling just a little shaken. The reason had since escaped him.

'That guy makes the list for sure.'

**xox**

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_Very pretty purple button awaits clicking by you._


	2. The Weird Umbrella Giving Kind of People

_Carousel_

Chapter 2: The Weird Umbrella-Giving Kind of People

Note: Gaara and Neji's class is an 8/9 split. Gaara is 13, Neji is 14, etc.

**Disclaimer:** Nope.

---

'I guess you could say I'm messed up. Hell, I know I'm messed up. I don't really care, one way or another. I stopped caring a long time ago...'

The skies were darkened with clouds, the air hot and sticky. It was early in september, but summer had refused to give up so easily. Even breathing was difficult.

Around him there were many people, all strangers. Faces he never knew, and didn't plan to know anytime in the near future. Swinging the metal door of his locker firmly shut, he turned to go. The others rushing in the same direction moved around him, like a current. But no one bumped into him, or even grazed him.

It was an eerie feeling. But one he savoured.

'Being lonely does not mean you're unhappy. It simply means you have no one to bother you.'

Rain pattered on the roof above. The walk home suddenly seemed very long. Very, very long. At least he didn't have to walk with Temari or Kankurou. For reasons he didn't quite understand, they (meaning Temari) insisted on walking to and from school with him everyday. Temari had a doctor's apointment that day, and Kankurou?

Well, Kankurou kinda did what he wanted, and no one asked many questions.

Eyes piercing ahead blankly, he took a few steps into the current, feeling the energy around him. A whirlpool. Everyone was taller than him, quite a bit taller, but he wasn't thrown by pointless statistics like that. Fear. Fear could take down the largest of predators...

He stopped. There was someone behind him.

"Oi."

He didn't turn, though he knew that was what the voice wanted him to do. He felt a small prodding on his arm, and then the object found it's way to before his chest. The hand that gripped it connected to an arm, connected to a whole body. Still, his eyes didn't move.

"Here. It's raining."

'No, really. I didn't know that.'

Gaara looked down at the umbrella, silent, then slowly turned to it's owner. The taller, milky-eyes boy stood there, looking displeased. Neither moved. Gaara didn't really want the umbrella. It was a gesture of sympathy. He'd get wet, so what? Rain was nothing compared to what he'd felt...

The milky eyed boy shook his head, pushed the sleek, black package into Gaara's hands and then became lost in the current. Gaara stared after him a while.

And even for what he'd been through, that seemed pretty weird.

---

'i barely remember my past... i never knew my mother... i don't think...

'i was lonely. i know that much.

'sometime, i lived with someone i thought was nice - i think - but they went away, and things got even worse.

'but i'd much rather not get into that.

'dad's gone too. They're all gone...

'this way, I've nothing to lose. I feel cold. And when I see poeple hurt, the cold revels.

'some days...

'nevermind. its nothing.'

---

"Gaara! Where were you, it's almost four thirty!"

Temari rushed out of the kitchen, looking at her brother in an annoyed fashion. He shrugged, and headed for his room. Seconds later he came out again, a pile of similiar, but dryer clothes in his arms. Temari's look softened, as he gave Mariko (still cooking) a slight nod as hello. She smiled back, knowing very well that would be the best she'd get out of the boy.

"Oh, Gaara..." Temari looked over him. His dark clothes hung loose to his skinny frame slightly damp, skin paler than usual and dotted with bits of rain. Red hair was strung through with crystallic droplets, dripping just a little. He was just a little boy to her still, and she doubted he would ever lose that image to her. Resisting the urge to reach out and ruffle his hair, the older girl's lips turned down again.

"Where's Kankurou? I told him to meet you."

Another shrug, as Gaara moved to the washroom.

"You mean he just didn't show up?"

The door closed, and the sound of the shower being turned on was present.

"That bastard!" Temari exclaimed angrily, "I told him! I told him twice!"

"It's okay, Temari," Mariko laughed from the kitchen, "I'm sure Gaara wasn't expecting him to come."

"But-"

"Come here, I need some help with the potatoes."

Temari sighed, and reluctantly strode back into the kitchen. "I'm just worried about Gaara."

"I think we're all worried about eachother."

---

Hot water poured from the spout, a foot or so above his height. Half soggy garments were strewn over the rack, a towel folded by the shower door. A pale skinned form was visible through the glass door, sitting in the corner, whilst a finger traced symbols on the floor, the water curling as it was sucked down the drain.

Much to his annoyance, the wamrth of the water only seemed to make his feet colder. The streams rushed over his ears, drowning out all sound save for its pounding. He closed his eyes, the smell of Temari's shampoo still lingering from that morning.

How many days had it been...

He tilted his head back and closed his mouth, letting the water come over his face. They created paths down his neck, over his shoulders. All over him, it was warm. And yet he himself was not.

It wasn't a physical thing. Warmth was always thought to be physical, and it is. But real warmth is something you can feel, it heats you on the inside.

It can burn you.

'I don't like to get burned...'

Gently he rose, his feet splashing lightly in the water collected at the bottom of he stall. His fingers applied light pressue on the knob, the water slowing. Then with one push, he turned it all the way off. The last trickles rained down on him, as cold began to settle back in.

---

"Damn rain..." came a mutter, as the front door was pushed open and shut loudly again. The teen shook his head, water flying from the hood covering his head. An angry shout came from the kitchen as his sister flew in, reminding him strangley of the Wicked Witch of the west.

"Kankurou! Where were you!"

He blinked, unsure of what she meant. "The Hell...?"

"You idiot bastard!" she yelled, "Why didn't you pick up Gaara this afternoon!"

"Language!" Mariko shouted cheerfully, answered by "Sorry, Mariko-san," and then the arguement continued.

"Calm down, Temari," Kankuru said, laying down his backpack, "Gaara's 13, he can take care of himself."

As if on cue, the door of the washroom opened and out walked Gaara. His hair was matted into damp strands, dripping onto his black garb. The eyes of his sibling's watched him, as he headed over to the doorway near them.

"Oi, pipsqueak!"

"What did he ever do to you, Kankurou?"

The eldest male crossed his arms, watching the small boy pick up his bag and a new item. An eyewbrow raised in interest.

"Where did you get that umbrella, pipsqueak?"

Gaara ignored him, not bothering to even scare off his borther. He heaved the backpack over his shoulder and started back to his room.

"I asked you where you got that umbrella!"

Temari balled her fists, resisting the urge to hurt Kankurou, as he yelled again to Gaara. Finally, the youngest stopped in the doorway to their room, not turning back as his lips parted for both breath and speech.

"A friend."

End Chapter 2  



	3. Neji's Good Photograph Day and Other Hap...

_Carousel_

Chapter 3: Neji's Good Photograph Day and Other Happenings

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Naruto, blah blah blah.

o

'there's a little piece of reality we all end up dealing with at one point or another. some people are oblivious, and it pains thier trapped souls. some people realize it, and try to escape, only causing other's pain in the process. but there isn't escape. so you just have to make the best of it.

'i came to terms with this fact a long time ago.

'that is, life doesn't care abut you, your petty wishes, dreams, and joyous memories. in fact, life hates you.

'it hates me, anyways. but i hate it back, and that's that. i guess we're even.

'i guess.'

o

Drip... Drip...

Emerald eyes glared out the window. The TV hummed in the living room, along with the scratch of a pencil.

"Je suis, tu es, il est, elle est, nous sommes... vous... vous..."

"Vous etes."

"I knew that."

Why Temari couldn't memorize le verbe etre au le present quietly, Gaara didn't know.

"Ils sont, elles sont! I did it Kankurou!"

"Great. I'll mail you an Oreo."

Mariko wiped a smudge of sauce from her mouth, watching the siblings. Gaara sitting placidly malicious by the window, Kankurou channel surfing, and their sister scribbling away on her french. Sighing, their care-taker wandered over to them, eyes mostly on Gaara.

"Oh, it stopped raining."

Gaara nodded, not facing her. Kankurou, however, had been drawn by the smell, and was already heading past Mariko, an entranced look on his face.

"Pig," Temari muttered, though affectionate, shutting her binder. "Come on Gaara."

It was only a small moment, but as he had spoken before... she almost saw something in Gaara. Maybe it was how soaked he looked, or that he was still on the short side. She couldn't quite place it, now matter how she tried, staring at him from over a mound of mashed potatoes.

Or perhaps she was just wishing for her old little brother back. The one who drew her pictures with crayons, and always wanted oatmeal cookies for dessert. The one who loved the rain...

Suddenly, she came to sudden awareness of that fact that she was staring at him, and rather intensely too, as his eyes met hers for but a second before both glanced away. Temari went back to her potatoes, and Gaara poked at what was left of his for a few more minutes before putting his plates into the sink. He gave a slight bow to Mariko as 'thanks', then headed for their door.

"Going for a walk, Gaara?" Mariko asked sanguinely, tucking a strand of shoulder-length auburn hair behind her ear. How she kept up her demeanor was beyond the others...

Seeing as the boy was bending down to take off his slippers, it was taken as a silent 'yes'.

"You might want to take your umbrella, pipsqueak," Kankurou muttered through a mouthful of chicken. Surely enough, the youngest headed to his room, then came out again with the small package in his hand. The door swung shut behind him, leaving just Mariko and Temari staring at the only remaining male.

Temari smirked. "You do care."

"Naw," he scoffed, "I just didn't want to see him get sick is all. You'd blame me."

"Whatever you say, Kankurou."

o

Water hung heavy on the leaf, the droplet quivering in the still. No wind, no sound. Dove-coloured clouds made the background, swirling in post-thunderstorm. It was like the rain had swept all signs of human life away, leaving the steel frames of the playground and the houses around it. And the lonely tree.

The click of a shutter sounded at the press of a finger. His legs had begun to ache for release, his balance beginning to teeter. One foot was placed on a narrow beam of a climbing gym, the other on the pole of the base. The sand of the playground seemed quite a long way down, yet he didn't notice.

Letting out his breath slowly, he settled into a crouch, taking a look at the settings on his camera. A scarred, black cure for the world. Resting a taut wrist on the bar behind him, he observed the area. He'd been there since the rain stopped. It was too perfect not to, and he knew he could get the best pictures then.

The way mists danced around everything, threatening to engulfe it, showing you tiny glimpses of things already entrapped.

And out of the mists blanketing the end of the street, came a figure, head down, hood up, hands stuffed in pockets. Neji watched him out of the corner of his eye for a while, wiping off his camera's lense with just a hint of a smile.

Just as he thought, the boy stopped by the bench, a short ways away. His shoes were damp from the grass, just inches from being swamped in a puddle of dead earthworms. They always came up in the rain, trying not to drown in their tunnels... helpless.

"Hey," Neji greeted him. And he was answered with silence. With a firm gaze, Neji twisted around to look at him. "I didn't know you lived around here."

Gaara suddenly seemed preoccupied with something, shuffling through his (rather large) pocket. Neji raised an eyebrow. His umbrella.

"Thanks," muttered Gaara, as if he'd never said the word before.

"No problem."

Yet another long pause, and the red-head glared off into the distance. He didn't know much about the other boy, besides the fact that they were about the same age, and he owned an umbrella. That was more than he knew about a lot of people.

"Have a name?" Neji asked, and Gaara glanced up.

"Gaara."

"Neji."

Creamy eyes met kelly green ones, in a sort of war which neither one. Romantic? Depends on your opinion. Maybe it was just two strangers meeting eyes. Not so much strangers as aquaintances, though.

And then there was silence. The kind of silence that wraps around you, threatening to drown you, whispering in your ear. And you like it, because it's comfortable. Because the person in the silence with you doesn't have any words either, so it's entirely fair. You begin to think you don't need words to have a conversation.

From the tree, a bird stirred, causing the branch to shake. Within each leaf there was a small pond, and those ponds emptied themselves, droplets sprinkling onto the ground. And onto Gaara. Splotches apeared in his near-dry hair, and he put out a hand, catching a bit in his palm. They glistened, before he raised the hand to his lips and blew them off, leaving trails from the path they'd taken.

Neji gave a smile, not quite smug. "Perhaps you needed that umbrella after all."

"Water doesn't hurt people," Gaara responded softly.

"Sure it does. What about a tsunami? People drown, are crushed. Their homes are swept away, along with everything they knew. Maybe those few drop are nothing, but faced with a tsunami, you'd be dead."

Neji watched Gaara's expression, not revealing anything. Just blank pensiveness. I trip inside that boy's head would be interesting indeed. Either there would be nothing... or thoughts dark enough not to have words.

Neji thought he might like to find out.

Gaara put his hand back into his pocket and turned, taking slow steps away from the structure Neji was balanced on. The colour of his hair began to fade, mists wraping themselves around him as they'd done with everything. Neji watched the peculiar boy, raising his camera as Gaara was swallowed by the fog. Or maybe it was Neji who'd already been swallowed, and Gaara was just leaving.

And the shutter on Neji's camera clicked again.

o

_'A twisted version of ourselves,  
a truth no one wants to hear.  
to be what you're not supposed to be.  
Defy the rotation,  
against the current.  
I see someone riding alone,  
on a slow-moving carousel.'_


	4. Milk and Cookies, and Conversation

Carousel

Chapter 4: Milk and Cookies, and Conversation

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Naruto. (long exasperated sigh) Oh, and the first little scene was insipired by the book and movie 'White Oleander', which both rocked, and I don't own them either. 

o

Twisting; Turning; Swimming; Churning.

Darkness around white. White milk, pouring, rushing down, down. Droplets on a surface of black. No colour. Drowning in the pure white, albescent. Voices telling me to swim. I don't want to swim.

Words pouring down, in, through the milk. The words were the milk, the milk that was trying to drown me. Wrapping around my ankles, pulling me down, down, under. I had nothing to hold onto. There was no sound but the poundng of silky white liquid over my ears, through my hair and into my mouth. I was alone. No one to save me.

Mourning; Creating; Manifesting; Breaking

'I don't need saving,' I told myself. I found I could breath through the milk, and I didn't have to listen to the voices. I let the current carry me, free, uncaring. The milk was thick, no colour shone through. Intricate spirals of black came and went with night. The milk continued to flow. It refused to stop.

Dancing; Burning; Fighting; Learning

'I can save you.'

I can save myself.

o

His hand lay on the pillow beside him, fingers open, arm slightly outstretched. Through his thick and heavy eye-lids, Gaara saw the dim light of morning through a window coated in raindrops. The storm had started again in the night. They do that sometimes, leaving a calm inbetween.

He sat up, lightly holding onto the pale sheet. Across the room, Kankurou snored. The Day-Glo numbers on his alarm clock read 6:25. Wait... 6:26. Time didn't mean much, though. It came and went. Humans just divided it for their own purpouses. They could have come up with a better system though. Who really counts in base 60?

The room was a basic mess on Kankurou's side. Clothes were never put away, and neither was food, or anything else for that matter. Gaara's side was clean, as there was no reason for him to make a mess. He didn't own much beside the odd book, and some clothing.

The house was so quiet in morning. Even Mariko wasn't up yet, it seemed.

Gaara disregarded time once again and flopped back down on his pillow. He closed his eyes and willed himself to sink back into sleep. And he did. He was swimming in the milk, the edges of his vision growing black. As he turned his head to investigate, there was nothing there. A hand emerged through the tumbling cream, and he stared at it for a while.

'I don't want to be saved.'

'I never offered to save you. Come.'

And he took the hand, feeling himself being pulled along.

o

"She left a note..."

"Wazzat say? Give it here!"

"No, Kankurou, you'll rip it!"

"Will not! Dammit, Temari, you're such a-"

Gaara opened his eyes again. No, time hadn't melted away, along with the rest of the world. What a disapointment. But the smell of coffee seemed to pull him out of bed. He pushed away the blanket, noticing that he'd been sleeping for an hour, and Kankurou's bed was empty. Judging from the ruckus, Temari was also awake. Joy.

" 'Dear Temari, Kankurou and Gaara," Temari read, "I have been called out of town, for reason you don't need to worry about. To compensate, there are fresh batches of cookies in the oven.' "

Kankurou raced over to said oven and proceeded to look through the glass.

"I don't see anything!"

"Maybe you should open the freakin' door, Kankurou."

"Shut up Temari!"

On the counter sat Temari, a piece of floral stationary in her hand. She was dressed only in a pink tank top and blue shorts, her hair frizzier than normal from sleep. Kankurou opened the oven, after sending her a glare he had leaned from watching Gaara (though his didn't quite work the way Gaara's did). Temari was immune to the look, and proceeded to reach over to the fridge to get the orange juice, the classic breakfast drink.

"Hey, they're chocolate chip! Yes!"

Temari sighed, noticing Gaara had come in from the other room.

"Ohayo, Gaara."

Gaara proceeded to grab some bread from the cupboard, along with peanut butter and a knife (a butter knife, to the relief of Temari and Kankurou). He then spread the peanut butter on the bread, and grabbed the milk, after slight hesitation. Temari had grown bored with Brother-Watching, and was making her exit.

"I'm using the washroom, come in and I'll gouge out your eyes!"

"With what?" Kankurou called after her.

"Sporks."

o

In the time it took for everyone to get their stuff, groom, and eat something that actually had some nutritious benefit, they were late, and two-thirds of the party seemed very ticked off. The other third seemed indifferent.

And so they began their usual trek to school. It was quiet for the most part, as Temari had decided Kankurou didn't exist (he had accidentally walked in on her in her underwear, after which she threw her hairbrush at his head (there were no sporks in arm's reach). This caused him to pass out for a few minutes, only making them even later than they were before). Kankurou was trying to study for a history test he remembered he had about five minutes ago, as well as guzzling a bottle of Pepsi. It wasn't turning out to be the best of mornings...

"Have a good day, Gaara," Temari urged anyways as they neared the gates to the Junior High, "We'll meet you here after school."

"No we won't," Kankurou interjected, "He's probably embarassed we walk with him. I certainly am."

Temari opened her lips to speak, but found it pointless, as Kankurou had re-emersed himself in the wonders of the Fuedal Era, and Gaara seemed to be heading off of his own accord. Her eyes found a black haired boy, leaning against the gate. And Gaara seemed to be heading right for him.

"Is that your friend, Gaara?" she asked loudly. He shrugged as he walked away.

"No wonder he doesn't answer you, you treat him like he's five," Kankurou muttered.

"Don't you ever wish that Kankurou?" Temari turned back to look at her brother.

"Why, do you?"

"Yeah. He was actually happy then," Temari resumed walking, watching her shoes, "I mean, as children... we seem so carefree. I haven't seen Gaara laugh in... ever. To be filled with childlike innocence..."

"Temari?"

"Hai?"

"You've been reading way too much of that poetry crap."

"Thanks, Kankurou."

"Anytime."

Meanwhile, Gaara had given Neji a greeting nod, and recieved one in return. The schoolyard flowed around them, people they knew, but didn't know. They were alone, but not alone in a weird way. What was usually a lonliness of one, turned into the comfort of two.

"Were dose your sibligs?" Neji asked, and Gaara nodded, then gave him a stare.

"Are you okay?"

"I'b fide, I just hab a cold."

Gaara looked quizzically at him. "Could've stayed home."

"Naw, I wanted to use the dark roob," Neji sneezed, and Gaara gave what seemed to be a smile. But it was hard to tell. Just the corners of his lips twitching upwards a little. He pulled off his knapsack, and proceeded to pull out a bag of cough drops.

"What're dese?"

"Temari gave them to me," Gaara said quietly, "Like lemon?"

"Dot particularily, but dat's okay," Neji pulled the ends of the candy wrapper, watching it open. "Danks."

Gaara shrugged. Shrugging and nodding seemed to be things Gaara was very good at. Neji popped the cough drop in his mouth, letting it soak into his tongue, while Gaara put the bag back in his backpack. His own throat felt a little sore, but it was a good sore. Sore from talking, maybe. Sure, he talked during class when he was forced, and he grunted now and then. But conversations were different.

"You should cob (come) by the art roob at ludch," Neji said, "I'll show you how to develop filb."

"And you cad see odder people's works. Do you eber do ady art?"

"I don't know."

"You seeb the type to be idto it."

'I'm a type?' Gaara blinked at this, hearing the bell ring, though it sounded far-off. Neji raised his eyebrows, and they headed into the school. It was as it usually was.

Except it was a little different.

o

**AN**: If you had trouble understanding Neji, just replace most d's with n's or a th, and b's with m's and it'll probably work out.


	5. In Which There is a Dark Room

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Chapter 5: In Which There is a Dark Room

AN: Whoot for 5 chapters! Thank you to vivdlight.c om for the darkroom info. Oh! The music I have Neji listening to here is Portishead (the live CD), because that's what I was listening too, and it's very cool. Big thanks to Joelle for lending it to me. I really doubt you've ever heard them, but I love them, and their lyrics are beautiful.

**Disclaimer**: I have no rights to Naruto or its characters.

OooOo

The clock ticked noisily, the small red hand moving rhythmically around. Gaara glanced at it, then looked back to his math sheet. The seconds seemed to get longer as they progressed, an everlasting sea of ticking. He looked at his pen, tilting it back and forth between his fingers. He could simply throw it, so it stuck into the clock, and the ticking would stop. Though a rather tempting idea, Gaara declined.

He glanced around, though it was a little difficult, as most of the people were a few inches taller than he was, which slightly obscured his veiw. To his left was the pink-haired girl, who had finished also, and was looking out the window. In front of her was a short blonde-haired boy, who glared at his sheet as if it were a demon, while he scribbled away. So hard, in fact, that his pencil broke.

"Oi," the boy whispered rather noisily, leaning backwards to talk to the pink-haired girl, "Can I borrow your pencil sharpener?"

She looked up at him, rather annoyed.

"...please, Sakura-chan?"

"Fine." The girl got her pencil case out of her desk, and began looking through it. Meanwhile, the blonde boy was leaning back further... and further... and

"Aiie!"

CRASH!

He ended up sprawled on the floor, Sakura standing over him (she'd managed to jump away before being flattened by her deak). He smiled up at her goofily.

"Find it?"

"Use someone elses, Naruto," she muttered bitterly, righting her desk. The boy sighed and pushed himself back up, avoiding the glare he was being given by the teacher. A shy cough came from his right, the girl sitting in front of Gaara.

"Y-you can use my p-pencil, Naruto," she smiled softly, as he took it, nodding once before going back to his vehement scribblings.

To Gaara's right, smirking at the incidence, was the black-eyed boy, who was somehow managing to blare death-metal through his head-phones without getting caught. And across the room, reading a rather thick book, was Neji, sitting closest to the door. His long black hair fell down his back, caught in a white tie. Rather irregular, but what really was regular? Just about everyone in his class could be part of the freak show if they wanted.

Finally the bell rang, and the room was immeidiately filled with chatter and movement. Some students sprinted for the door, while others leisurely took their time. Gaara simply took his own pace. As he looked up, he noticed Neji had already left, and was a little glad. It was becoming a little unnerving... being around people so much. As if he were being opened up, and people were looking at him. It was rather unpleasant. But Gaara didn't mind all that much with Neji. Usually, he would.

And indeed, these things confused him. Though he wasn't one to so easily admit it.

OooOo

Bag slung over his shoulder, Gaara moved through the halls like a shadow. Everyone was clearing to the cafeteria, or getting ready to walk over to a restaurant to eat (which was probably a good idea, seeing as the cafeteria was questionabley edible, and people weren't just joking when they said that). Gaara, however, was heading in the opposite direction of the cafeteria - to the art room.

It wasn't as if he had anywhere better to go. And it would be pretty much quiet in there, he guessed, unlike the extremely loud cafeteria.

He found the door, half-open, the lights on. A single figure sat at the desk, looking through a pile of sketches. The teacher glanced up at Gaara, who had taken to leaning against the doorframe.

"Oh, hi... Gaara, isn't it?"

The boy nodded, looking hesitantly around. "Is Neji here?"

"Oh yeah, he's in the back." The art teacher went back to his marking, and Gaara headed towards the door at the end of the room, ignoring the not-so-school-appropriate novels that were piled on the edge of said teacher's desk. Music could be heard from behind the door, distorted guitar, and a strong female voice, wailing.

Gaara opened the door, slowly, and stepped inside, finding himself in a cramped room lit with only dimmed light. A figure he presumed was Neji looked at him from the sink, where he was setting up.

"You cabe," or "You came," without the accent added by Neji's cold.

Gaara nodded, ignoring the horrible obviousness of the statement. People have habits of telling you what you already know, often in greeting. He leaned against the door observing Neji, who had slightly turned down the music blaring from the stereo. It was calm that way for a while, Neji going about his work, and Gaara watching, quiet. Eventually, Neji glanced over at Gaara, confused.

"Dod't you hab a ludch?"

Gaara shook his head. Due to his lateness that morning, and Mariko's absence, there had not been time to make a decent lunch, or a lunch at all. Gaara did, however, have a Ziploc bag filled with cookies. He suspected Temari was the one who put them in there, as some attempt to cheer him up. In any case, he decided he'd rather not explain to Neji why he didn't have a lunch, and left it at that.

"You cad hab sob of mide," Neji said, rifling through the bag sitting on the counter.

"No thanks."

"You should eat," Neji said again, a little more forcefully. He threw a container filled with carrots at Gaara, who caught and ate it, however releuctantly. Neji snacked on a sandwich, as he wasn't one to be accused of hypocritism. Betwen bites, his lips moved themselves to the lyrics of the song, movements a little slurred by the lilted rhythms. There were different groups of kids in the school, some jocks, the drama kids, the music kids, the art kids (mostly goths), the kids who actually liked school (heaven knows why), and then there were the kids who didn't really do anything. Neji didn't really fit into any category, despite having the ability to excel in any that he chose. Groups didn't suit him.

"My sister."

He looked over at Gaara, who sat on a box of storage materials, tracing the lines between the bricks of the wall with his forefinger.

"My sister's name is Temari... My brother is Kankurou..."

It seemed like a decent place to start.

His eyes met Neji's before looking back to the bricks. Not shy, of course. Just making sure his breath wasn't being wasted. His fingernail made high-pitched scratching noises against the cement as he continued tracing.

"We live with our care-taker."

The first day they were there, she introduced herself as Mariko, and told them, that if they wanted her to be their foster mother, she would be. But care-taker seemed to term best-fit, and she didn't mind. An agreeable person, but not to the point of being annoying, such as the pink-haired girl that sat beside Gaara in Math. She seemed to him a very annoying person.

He turned to Neji, giving him a questioning look. "What about you?"

The muscles on the dark-haired boy's back stiffened, his lips turning down.

"I live with family."

Gaara leaned his head against the wall, feeling the abrasive surface against his scalp through the mess of firey hairs. It was cool, though not icy. He snuck glances at Neji, not stares, but looks meant for keen observation. The way Neji's lips grew thinner when he concentrated harder. Or the way he held his hands, and how they moved, as he poured the chemicals, or as he reached up to turn up the fan that cleared the room of fumes.

"So, you're house is somewhere near that park, I guess?" Neji asked quietly. Gaara nodded.

"A few streets over."

"There are a lot of dogs around there. My cousin..." Neji's voice trailed off, "She was riding her bike once, and she was chased by one. She fell..." He sighed, wiping his hands off on a towel. "We live down the road from your subdivision. But I walk quite a bit. Then I can actually think... it's too big, the house, and... I just can't."

Gaara nodded. "My siblings are loud."

A smile crossed Neji's face, in near amusement.

"I bet they are."

Gaara and Neji left the darkroom a little before the bell rang, as not to get caught in the crowds. Their conversation had continued on and off, small and insignificant topics, until Neji was finished, and the pictures were hung on a line that stretched across the room to dry. Said boy paused in the doorway of the art room, letting Gaara go on without him.

"Kakashi-sensei, would you mind if-"

"If you used the darkroom after school again?" Kakashi glanced up from his novel, "No, as long as your out of there by five-thirty. And make sure you don't break anything, not that I think you will."

The adolescent bowed his head in thanks, then moved further out the door.

"Ah, Neji," Kakashi placed his hands pensively together, "I hope you're not using this as an excuse not to have to spend time at home."

Neji's eyebrows furrowed. "I wouldn't think of it."

OooOo

Temari's hands were stuffed deeply into her pockets as she made her way home, to keep the mid-October wind from nipping at them too hard. The air was crisp and bitter. Not cold, as the sky was sill visible, along with a large assortment of clouds, but chilly. And her ears felt the worst, as if they were about to fall off!

And it seemed different walking without Gaara...

She continued on down the sidewalk, staring straight ahead. Though maybe it would've been a better idea to have been looking at her feet, because it was as she walked over the lawn of the third house, the white one with black shutters that she tripped, landing face-first in the grass. And he rest of her body on someone else. She promptly pulled herself off, shrieking.

"Aiie! You pervert!"

The boy she'd tripped over rubbed his head, rather annoyed at having his head shoved between Temari's breasts (not that he minded all that much).

"What do you mean 'pervert'?" he asked, "_You_ tripped over _me_. You should watch where you're going."

"Well, you shouldn't just lay on the lawn like that!" Temari protested further, "People could trip over you!"

"_You_ were walking on _my_ lawn!"

The fiesty girl crossed her arms, extremely frustrated. "Why were you lying on the ground anyways?"

"Cloud-watching."

Temari blinked in disbelief. "Cloud-watching?"

"Yep." With that, the boy lay back onto his lawn, soft blades of green crunching under him as he rested his head on his wrists. School had just gotten out 15 minutes ago, and he wasn't allowed peace, even then? What was the world coming too?

Temari brushed herself off, cursing as she found a few grass stains, and in a huff stalked off, heavy school bag in hand. The eyes of the boy drifted, from cloud, to cloud, to her receeding form. He snorted.

"How troublesome."

Then his eyes were focused on the sky once more, and the dark grey clouds moving steadily in from the west. He sighed.

"Looks like it's going to rain again."

End of Chapter 5


	6. Swing Low, Sweet Chariot

**Carousel**

Chapter 6: Swing Low, Sweet Chariot

**AN**: I feel compelled to mention this isn't a TemGaa story. The bond they have is just sister-brother. There will be more TemShika as chapters go by, I think. But it's GaaNe and TemShika. No TemGaa. Though I have no problem with that pairing!

**Disclaimer:** Bah! This story doesn't even make sense sometimes, so obviously it doesn't make dollars. (hah hah... hah... no.)

o

_Swing low... sweet chariot..._

_Comin' forth to carry me home..._

The door swung open, and a gust of crisp autumn air was let in, before it swung shut with a bang, and Temari kicked off her running shoes.

"I'm home!" she called, feeling just a little guilty for being late. Not late. Just a half hour or so different than the time she usually got home. It wasn't her fault she had decided to take a short detour to meet some friends for a few minutes of hang-out time before retreating to the bungalow she resided in. And maybe some people were smoking. Well, some people had... but Temari wasn't into that sort of thing. Not that she hadn't tried, of course.

As she walked past the mirror, Temari paused. Something wasn't right. After further inspection, she discovered one of her earrings was missing. She had had it as she left school, she remembered catching one in her hair.

"It must've come out when I tripped over that guy..." she murmured, wrinkling her nose at the memory. She then tilted her head back, and yelled, "Hey, is anyone here!"

"We're in the kitchen!" Kankurou's voice came. Temari threw her bag onto the couch as she walked through, stopping dead as her eyes found his.

"What the Hell happened:

Indeed, it was a sight. Gaara sat on the kitchen counter, looking out the window in an annoyed fashion, while Kankurou mopped at his forehead. Which was rather bloody. Temari stared, as the older brother wrung out the washcloth in the sink, then gently brought it back up to dab at Gaara. And Gaara wasn't brutally injuring him.

"Is anyone going to answer me!" she asked, rushing fowards, "Oh my God, Gaara, are you alright?"

The younger boy nodded, and Temari sighed with relief. She turned to Kankurou for further analysis.

"Again?"

"I'm guessing so," Kankurou grumbled, "Though Gaara's not the one who was hurt. Much, anyways."

Just after they'd moved in, Gaara had arrived home from school, not only late, but with his hands bruised and covered in blood. After a bit of coaxing, he told Temari he'd been attacked. Not attacked, really. But a group of older boys, high-schoolers, had come across him. And tried to beat him up, for whatever reason.

Needless to say, Gaara came out of it alright. In fact, the only injuries he sustained were from falling - a scrape on his arm, one bruise on his ribs, and one on his knee. But there was blood, still.

It wasn't his fault they didn't know how to properly use knives.

"Gaara," Temari put her hand cautiously on her younger brother's arm, hoping he wouldn't go beserk and try to kill her. She relaced when he didn't make any movements. "Was it the same people?"

He shook his head, quiet. Kankurou continued wiping the dried blood from Gaara's forehead.

"They come at you:

He responded in a nod, his eyebrows furrowing. Temari bit her lip in concern.

"Are you alright?"

A shrug.

"Gaara, please..."

He refused to speak.

Temari turned to Kankurou, who had managed to wipe Gaara's forehead clean. There was a tiny scrape above his right eye, and neither dared ask where the rest of the blood had come from. The ends of Gaara's scarlet hair had become damp, and hung heavily over his pale skin. Temari turned to Kankurou with a grateful smile.

"Thanks for taking care of him.:

"No problem."

Gaara hopped off the counter, his eyes meeting Kankurou's for approval. The older brother nodded, and Gaara looked down at his hands, almost sadly, before dipping them into the sink, and letting cold water pour over them. Dirt and blood. It was disgusting.

"Damn, Mariko chose a great time to leave, didn't she?" Kankurou said sarcastically. It went unappreciated, Temari heading for the back door.

"I'll cook dinner, okay guys?"

"Tch! You couldn't cook to save your life!"

The girl paused in the door frame, her eyes hardened.

"I know, Kankurou."

With this, she left, and the two boys left in the kitchen soon heard the creaking of a chain, as Temari climbed upon the tire swing that decorated their backyard. And soon after that, there was a scream. Peeking out the window, Kankurou discovered that everything appeared fine. Temari swung back and forth, high as she could, then tilted back her head and screamed. She let the blood rush to her head, and paid no attnetion to anything.

It was so beautiful, the world she saw from upside down. She wanted to live there. But she couldn't.

o

Kankurou flipped through the channels, watching the programs while reading his assigned novel. And occasionally he'd glance over to Gaara, who was staring at the ceiling. He wondered if his little brother had a brain at all. Or perhaps Gaara was one of those geniuses, like that Einstein guy. Maybe Gaara would figure out something amazing, and become famous.

Kankurou pondered this for a while, before deciding thoroughly against it. Maybe Gaara was just bored. Or maybe he was stupid. Either way, it was beginning to get real cold, and Temari was still outside.

"Oi, pipsqueak," Kankurou said, "Wanna go check on our sister?"

Gaara eyed him, before sitting up and hading for the back door. And after he had left, it seemed extraordinarily quiet.

The older boy wasn't sure what had compelled him to do what he had done that afternoon. He was the first one home, for once, and had been going through the cupboard looking for snacks when Gaara had come in. His first reaction was a rather predictable "Holy shit, Gaara!" which involved him staring for a few moments, before something possessed him and he somehow dragged Gaara to the sink, where ten minutes later, Temari found them.

It wasn't like Kankurou actually cared about Gaara, though. Of course not. He just knew Temari would be mad if there was blood on the floor...

Yeah. Right.

o

Music trickled through the unmoving atmosphere of the art room once again. Kakashi was currently in the staff room, gossiping or re-loading on caffiene, leaving only Neji, on his own in the back. He glanced up at the clock, noting the time mentally. 5:15.

Pursing his lips, he stepped back to observe his most recent photographs, drying on the line. All black and white. It was easier to do, but he had decided that the pictures would undoubtedly look better without colour. Well, except for the last one. But they all turned out alright, in his opinion.

Pensively, he stared at the one colour photo, not that there was much colour in it anyways. Shades of grey parted to reveal of shock of red hair, and a black-clothed boy. His head was turned just slightly, so the creamy skin of his cheek was visible. It was a beautiful photo. But one Neji didn't intend to show anyone.

"Gaara..."

o

The sun was swelling, large and full, just barely able to be seen over the tops of the trees that adorned the subdivision. People seemed to think planting trees would make the fact that your neighbours were barely ten metres away disappear. It didn't, but Temari couldn't see them, so she didn't care. She swung, back and forth, keeping her eyes on a fixed target so she didn't get dizzy and vomit. Her throat was sore from screaming, and she had no will to do so anymore. She was empty.

It was hard.

The chain creaked, as the motion slowed. She sat with her body inside the tire, hanging onto the chain. The ground blurred beneath her. All the blades of grass just became one mass of green. She hadn't bothered to put her shoes back on when she'd gone out, and it had been an hour or so... but she was still out there.

She glanced up, surprised as she saw Gaara leave the house, and walk towards her. He stood next to the tree she swung from, and pulled himself up, as to sit on one of the lowest branches. Temari never did quite understand how her brother became so strong. He was small, yes, but so was she. And she had enough attitude for two. But Gaara... well, at least he wasn't being injured much.

"How are things?" she asked, only half expecting an answer, and she was surpised when she got one.

"Fine."

She smiled gently. "Were you afraid?"

He looked at her strangely.

"Everyone is afraid sometimes, Gaara," she said quietly, "I was afraid when I came home and there was blood in the sink."

"They had a knife."

His voice was low, and the words were spoken quickly. Temari winced.

"They?"

"Just three," Gaara murmured.

"Had you seen them before?"

He answered by shaking his head, no. His sister, desperate to keep him talking, tried once more.

"I'm sorry for being late tonight..."

He gave her a look, that might've meant 'shut up', but she didn't much care.

"I am. I'll walk you home again, if that would help," she tried, but it didn't seem to be working.

"No thanks."

"Okay."

She swung back and forth, watching him. Her blonde hair met the wind and tossed, unruly, and her pigtails were begining to become loose. Sighing, she let one foot drag against the ground to slow herself down.

"I should make dinner soon..." she leaned back, letting her back stretch, "What do you want, Gaara?"

He shrugged, and she laughed, though nothing was really funny. It just made her feel better. Then a shiver ran through her, reminding her of the October chill, and she hopped off the swing, nearly slipping in the mud that ws a result of the previous days rain. Peaking of which, storm clouds were covering the east, and seemed to be approaching quickly. Anticipating a storm, Temari headed for the house, once she'd regained her bearings.

"You should come in, Gaara, it's cold," she said. The boy leaned back against the trunk, seemingly ignoring her. She sighed, and tok off her jacket. She jogged back over to the tree, and through it up to him.

"At least wear this!" she called up, "I don't want you to catch a cold!"

A cold...

With an almost entertained expression, Gaara reached down and pulled up the jacket, draping it about his shoulders. Temari, satisfied, headed into the house, planning dinner. And if Kankurou didn't like it, that was problem! It wasn't her fault no one ever taught her how to cook.

o

Droplets pelted the ground, the same as the night before. A figure strode through them, not bothering to lift his feet as he walked through puddles. His hair had become plastered to his scalp, and his clthes were wet and heavy. He'd forgotten his unbrella that day, but this didn't bother him. He hadn't had it the previous night either, and he was fine. Well, not fine. He actually had a rather nasty cold. But that didn't really matter.

He entered the house quietly, shrugging off his wet coat first, and hanging it over one arm while he undid the laces of his shoes. A girl shorter than him rushed in, seemingly glad.

"N-Neji-niisan! We w-were worried about you," she started, but he ignored her, wringing out his hair lightly.

"Tell your father I'm fine."

He said nothing more to her, heading up the grand staircase on his left. She watched him, bowing her head. If she had more courage, she would've yelled after him, demanding he explain his absence, or at least apologize... but she couldn't. She heard him sneeze as he reached the landing, before slamming he door to his room.

o

The rain hadn't touched him. Through the canopy of leaves, some drops had gotten through, but he was for the most part dry. He looked up, the clouds shifting and churning in the sky. The percussion of the droplets continued relentlessly, sharp cacophony. Gaara closed his eyes, letting the fresh breeze sweep around him, cool against his skin. His skin was cold, and moisture was beginning to form on him.

He didn't even move, as he heard the screen door open.

"Gaara!" Temari called, "Are you still out there? It's pouring!"

He turned his head, watching her through the foliage. Finally, she caught sight of him, and poked her head out of the house further.

"Dinner! Come on, I made pizza! The microwaveable kind!"

Gaara nodded, and hopped down from the tree, heading quickly inside. Temari smiled, watching his slightly damp hair drip onto the carpet. Whether anyone else knew it or not... he was still a little boy to her.

And she was his big sister.

_Swing low... sweet chariot..._

_Comin' forth to carry me home..._


	7. Thicker Than Water

**Carousel**

Chapter 7: Thicker Than Water

**AN:** You have no idea how tempted I am to put in a 'got milk?' joke.

**Disclaimer**: I do not have any rights to Naruto. 

o

White.

Beautiful, pure white.

Thickly, around him, his hair swishing and melting into it, barely seen. He drifted, alone but not lonely, knowing the difference. He closed his eyes, which had become cold from the liquid gliding over them. They didn't sting though. He could see perfectly, endlessly, forever. There wasn't a lot to see...

Until drops of red started appearing, swirling, trickling down the sides of his vision. Bright and enigmatic, the drops formed a river. Dark vermillion against ivory, unmixing, dancing, spiraling. The milk started to become turbulent, it became harder to stay fixed, his control slipping.

Blood is thicker than water. What about milk?

The blood begin to come closer to him, whirlpools about his ankles, not yet touching the skin. Gently, it brushed by him, sending a shock through his whole body. The blood seemed overjoyed at this, and touched him again, snaking up to his knees. He tried swimming upwards, but the undertow had him. He opened his eyes fully, staring at the red, churning, half-way up to his waist, forming chains around his wrists. His skin became cold and waxy, as the blood dripped from him, soaking him completely. He ignored it. It meant nothing to him.

He began to enjoy it, as it curled around his stomach, snaking up his spine. It found the back of his neck, and he thought he heard a whisper but dismissed it as insanity. He let it crawl up his front, under his clothes and across his skin. Then up his neck, tingles arose as it continued. He tilted his head back, saying nothing, as it covered his scalp, so comforting and beautiful. More beautiful than the white, he thought, while it spun webs over him, slowly coming down, down his forehead, and over his eyes.

All was red. His could no longer see.

Did he want to see...?

Its tendrils brushed his cheeks, softly, working its way into his nose, like soft worms, crawling into his flesh. Inside, it softly hushed him, making him quiet, making him cold. Oh, how he liked being cold. He felt it, so vivid, when it molded to the shape of his lips, partly open, and ventured into the unused cavern that was his mouth. It plunged into him, deep and cold and painful. He did not panic, but found he could no longer breath. Painful, raking its fingers along his arms, his fingernails splintering, skin wearing thin over his bones. He was its doll, its lover, he alone.

He wondered vaguely where the hand had gone, the hand that had shown him... the warmth that lay buried, in the very center of the milky world...

He couldn't look for it, he was blind, and he couldn't shout for it, he was mute. He couldn't hear it, for he'd become deaf, and paralyzed, he wasn't able to search for it. All he had was the cold, metallic taste in the mouth, weighing him down, so heavy.

Blood is thicker than water. What about milk?

o

Temari groaned as she glanced at the clock. It was fucking 3:00 in the morning, for Pete's Sake! She wasn't a fan of mornings, not at all, and waking up at obscene hours for absolutely no reason wasn't on the top of her priorites list, to say the least. She reached up her arms, shivering violently as she discovered just how cold it was. It seemed she had left her window open, not noticing as she crashed in bed at 11 after finishing her essay, and it had still been raining. It rained, a cold, wet, miserable rain.

"Shit..." she muttered, pulling herself to sit. She reached over blindly, knowing her sweatshirt was on the floor somewhere within arms reach... This was definitely one of the perks of sleeping on a mattress on the floor. Also, you could never fall too far down, as Temari was a restless sleeper.

Wanting something to drink before she went back to sleep, the teenager lugged her body off of her mattress, after pulling her sweatshirt over her head, cursing herself mentally for wearing sleep-shorts instead of pants. She swished saliva around in her mouth, grimacing at the taste that still lingered there. What she wanted was alcohol, and checking Mariko's wine racks seeming very tempting, but unreasonable, as Temari knew once she got going she wouldn't stop... and they had school the next day. Besides, she didn't do many intelligent things when she was drunk, so she had learned.

When their father had died, things had gotten rough. He had been a bastard, yeah, but he'd still been her father. The last thing she did in her old town was going to a party, to cheer herself up.

Yeah, that'd been an interesting experience, to say the least.

Sluggishly, she made her way from the hall to the living room, freezing as she discovered she wasn't the only one awake. Soft moonlight filtered in from the open window, and on the sil was a small figure, tracing lines on his finger with a knife, not quite hard enough to break skin. He went from fingertip to fingertip, aware she was watching him, but uncaring.

"Gaara!" she rushed over to him, shock and horror on her face, "What the Hell are you doing!"

He continued his ritual, switching hands. He wore his day clothes still, and the rings around his eyes seemed to have darkened in color.

"Couldn't sleep," he answered simply, which did nothing to ease her rapidly beating heart.

"Gaara, stop it," she said firmly, but he ignored her. His eyes were so blank, so detesteful, refusing to meet hers. So vague and sharp, vividly green. His breath flew silently over his lips, almost visible in the air. Temari nearly drew back in her fright, relieved when she caught sight of his wrists, and they were unmarked. That was the last thing she needed, having her youngest brother go suicidal...

"Gaara, I want you to give me the knife. Now."

He went on, tracing the curve of his forefinger to his thumb, and back again, the metal of the small kitchen knife making whiserpings against his pale flesh. She watched, barely able to stomach it. He watched, daring himself a little more, pushing just a little harder with each pass, the skin beginning to give in...

"Dammit, Gaara, give me the fucking knife!"

Though she was afraid, truly afraid, Temari snatched his wrist, pulling it towards her. She was almost surprised when he didn't attack her. He looked so deadly there, so lifeless. So able to take life. Usually, is she saw his face like that, she'd leave him alone. But this was different.

His ungiving eyes peirced into her, no emotion showing. Struggling to pull away his hand, she found him a lot stronger than she'd before thought. Her other hand made it's way to the knife, trying to break his death-hold on the handle.

"Come on, Gaara..." she nearly begged, bowing her head as she pulled. He could see she was shaking... her muscles strained, her lips pushed tightly against one another to keep herself from crying out.

And he let go, so suddenly Temari fell back, her hands fumbling against one another, and glinting silver met her skin. She yelped, the hand holding the knife breaking her fall, the blade tainted red. Gaara's eyes widened, as she gasped, lifting her hand so she was able to see the lesion. It wasn't very deep, thank whatever deity, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt. It spread from and inch below her ring finger across her palm to below her thumb, and blood had already begun to pour out of the wound, trickling over her wrist.

_Dark vermillion against ivory._

"Fuck!" Temari exclaimed, not careing about the word's leaving her mouth, in her drowsy stupor. She pushed herself up, letting the knife rest on the chair. Her blood was on it, her blood. He could smell it, almost taste it on the air.

_Unmixing._

Her navy sweatshirt was darkening where the blood had flown onto it. The First-Aid training she had recieved at summer-camp came flashing before her eyes, as she clamped her other hand over the wound, and elevated it. Her eyes were wide and scared, as she felt the cold liquid meet her other palm, breathign quick and shallow. She felt a pulse, bright, bright red squirting out, and she squealed as she released she had hit an artery.

_Dancing._

Gaara watched, feeling his own heartbeat quicken. He had done that to his sister... it was beautiful, in an eerie way, the way scarlet rivers made themselves so painfully known. He intook breath sharply, coming off of the window sil to stand.

"You're bleeding..."

_Spiraling._

Temari winced, but gave him an unsure smile.

"Gaara..."

"Fuck, Temari, what happened!" came an impatient shout from the hallway, as Kankurou rushed in, eyes boring into his younger brother. Temaru took a deep breath, closing her eyes.

"Kankurou, I need you to run over to the neighbour's house, and ask if they can drive me to the hospital."

"It's fucking three-o-clock in the morning Temari, I-"

"Just do it!" she yelled, sitting back on the couch, the knife still lying on the chair beside it. She began murmuring things lightly to herself, feeling light-headed and nauseous. She looked up to find her brother still standing there, like a statue, and glared fiercely.

"I said fucking go! Gaara will stay here with me!"

Kankurou sent hem both looks, before running to the front door. After his footsteps had disappeared, there was a restless silence between the two. She shut her eyes, tightly, squeezing her hand. The only light was from the moon, which soon dipped behind a large cottony grey cloud, so lonely. Gaara's hand reached out, so gently touching her hand, his fingertips becoming wet with the wetness, as she looked up at him, his bright eyes meeting hers.

"You should go back to bed," she mustered, "I'll be fine..."

He shook his head, sitting down next to her. And he stared at the blood, as it refused to stop, just kept flowing, and flowing, so thick. He wondered what it would taste like... it was warm, coming from within her, so warm inside her veins. His breath passed again over cold, pale, untouched lips, flavoured with a whisper.

"I'm sorry."

o

The atmosphere of the Hyuuga household had been nearly unbearable during dinner. No one met eyes. No one spoke. Neji had eaten quickly, before shoving his plate into the dishwasher and heading back up to his room. Even Hanabi, at just nine years of age, could feel it. But she dared not say a thing.

At about 9:00, Hinata stood outside Neji's closed door, cold and white, undecorated. She willed herself to knock, or say something, something that could fix their broken home. But it didn't work, it never did, and she walked back to her room to do her homework.

At around 10:00, Neji lay awake, staring out the window in silence. All the stars were covered up with clouds, as it continued to pour.

'Doesn't matter... wishes don't come true anyways...'

That was something Neji liked about Gaara. He didn't want the world, or didn't seem to, anyways. Everyone wants the world these days. Too bad we have to share. And the pieces are _never_ equal.

'But at least we have _something._'

o

"So what happened?" Kankurou asked from the backseat of their neighbours van, whom had been awakened rather rudely by Kankurou's screaming and knocking. But the man had forgiven him, once he'd seen Temari's hand, of course. In any case, they were already half-way to the hospital, still in their pajamas (except for Gaara), their faces tinted by the lights of the town. Temari's face was passive, he could see in the mirror, as she was sitting in the front passenger seat - which is ironically enough the most dangerous place to sit.

"I cut my hand on the knife..." she whispered, "Gaara was playing with it."

Kankurou turned next to Gaara, who sat on the other side of the backseat, looking out the window, his cheek resting on his hand. The driver said nothing, keeping his eyes and ears on the road ahead of him.

"Why did Gaara have a knife?" Kankurou asked. Temari leaned her forehead against the window as well, the strap of the seatbelt pressing into her. A towel was held over her hand, tinted horribly, but not making a mess.

"He couldn't sleep," she said simply, and Kankurou glanced from sibling to sibling, wanting to probe deeper, but he felt that wasn't such a good idea.

The large, alighted letter 'H' of the hospital sign drew nearer, and they were soon parked, their neighbour looking rather nervous. Kankurou hopped out, and opened with Temari's door with such a force it almost swung back on them, but he was able to grab her shoulder, as she undid the seat belt, and pulled her out.

"Let's go!" he yelled, and began at a run, taking her right along with him. She glared at him, wanting to shake him off, but she couldn't. Gaara watched them disappear in hospital, as he stood in the half-empty parking lot, the air still. He heard someone behind him clear their throat, and he turned, casting but one eye upon their neighbour, whose name he did not know.

"Hey, I'm sorry to leave you kids here, but..." the middle-aged man scratched his temple, "I got work tommorow, and I don't know ya... so here." He stuck out his hand, which had a twenty dollar bill in it. "Call yourself a taxi, alright?"

Gaara took the money, with but a nod, and began walking towards the large building, the lights blaring yellow. The van pulled out, rather noisily, leaving Gaara alone in the parking lot.

o

In the waiting room, Kankurou sat, glaring at the wall. Gaara was a seat over, doing the same, though he didn't look nearly as sleepy as his brother, who was sipping a coffee that he'd gotten from a vending machine. He'd already consumed a hot chocolate, a bag of Sour Skittles, and three Mars bars, all bought with the ten dollars he always kept in his coat pocket. Gaara had declined his offers with silence.

"Stupid bitch..." he muttered, referring to the secretary that had hassled him as they'd come in, "Can't believe her..."

He looked over at Gaara, silent. Sometimes he doubed his brother was human. He seemed so out of place, among the pensive mothers and crying children around them. A teenager a bit older then them lay on the floor on the other side of the room, asleep. It smelled like disinfectant, so clean. Hospitals had to use that as a cover-up for the smell of blood, and death.

People die in hospitals.

Eventually, Temari came back in, her hand stitched up, the blood washed off. She had to shake Kankurou to wake him up, rather violently, as by that time she was in quite a bad mood.

"Geez, I cut my hand open, and you can't even stay awake?" she grumbled, taking a sip of his coffee. He squinted at her through the flourescent lighting.

"Hey... shut the Hell up..."

She sighed and pulled him out of the chair, rather violently. She paused, almost as if she were going to embrace him, but turned at the last minute, and headed out the door. Gaara continued after her, taking the twenty out of his pocket. Kankurou, still half-alseep, trudged after him.

"God, she's acting weird..."

He glanced at the clock before he left, reading an unpleasant 4:22. AM.

"Must be the painkillers."

Three hours later, Temari stared at her own face, reflected up at her from the sink, filled with water. She looked at her hand again, bound, but still sore. They'd given her an injection to make it numb, but she could feel it.

Even if she denied it, she felt it.

She traced the line, sadly, knowing she couldn't stay there all day, though it would've been nice. Her hair was still wet from her shower, dripping onto her shirt, droplets rolling down her back, causing bumps to rise over her skin. Again, her eyes met their reflection.

Temari lightly brushed the surface with her fingertips, watching her face ripple, stretching, growing. Kankurou's half-hearted protests came through the door, and Temari closed her eyes, slapping the water quickly with her hand, totally destroying her reflection.

Small curls of red drifted through the liquid...

_Thicker than water..._

End of Chapter 7


	8. The Lonliness That is Being Surrounded b...

**Carousel**

Chapter 8: The Lonliness That is Being Surrounded by People

**Notes on School **- Since I don't know much about Japanese schools, we're going with a common system here in North America. Elementary school is kindergarten through grade six, Junior high, where Gaara and Neji are, is seven through nine, and ten through twelve is high school. They don't have uniforms, because I can't think of one that wouldn't look incredibley weird on Gaara. And, like in NA schools, they have Saturday and Sunday off. Eight periods a day, classes are on rotary (so Neji and Gaara have all the same classes). 

**Disclaimer**: Keh.

o

Step by step in a dreary silence, the trio walked as fast as was possible over the sidewalk. It was no surprise that they were late again. The older two had gotten very little sleep the night before, and had been avoiding making eye contact all morning. Gaara was just Gaara; unspeaking and cold. Yet even he seemed dimmed, the scrape on his forehead still enflamed and easy to see.

On the brighter side of things, Temari now had an excuse to get out of gym class, but could still keep up with her other classes, since the injured hand was her left, and she wrote with her right. Kankurou had even admitted that it was a good idea for them to walk all-together to and from school. It was most certainly safer…. But Temari didn't even smile when he said so, no 'I told you so!', or 'See? I'm always right, little brother.' Just a nod, as she trudged along, head down and golden hair hanging carelessly in her face. She hadn't even bothered to put it up, looking as if it hadn't been combed, and her face was missing it's usual dosage of mascara and lip gloss.

'Everyone has bad days,' Kankurou told himself.

That cannot be denied, of course. But looking at the past while, one could say that having a bad day was almost becoming a habit.

The two eldest siblings watched Gaara from a short distance, as he made his way over to his white-eyed friend, who was again standing by the gate, looking uninterested in the world. It was only then Kankurou let himself ask her, in hushed, uncertain tones.

"Temari…" he began, "Are you alright?"

She forced a grin, but it was pained. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Kankurou was about to push her for more, except it was then they were interrupted by whom else but the boy Temari had tripped over the day before.

"Oi!" he walked up to them, a sour look on his face, his arms crossed over his chest, "Girl!"

Temari turned to him, displeased. "Oh, it's you."

He reached into his pocked, grumbling quietly, and proceeded to bring forth Temari's lost earring, much to her surprise.

"You musta lost it yesterday," the boy said, handing it to her, "I accidentally laid on it."

She accepted it, but said nothing in return, eyes still locked with the ground.

"What, no thank you?" the boy shook his head, "How troublesome…."

"So," Kankurou interjected, "How do you two know eachother?"

"She stepped on me."

"I see…."

"Do you have a name?" the boy again turned to Temari, studying her appearance pensively.

"Temari."

"I'm Shikamaru," His eyebrows furrowed as her face refused to lighten, "Are you alright?"

Temari paused, as if the answer required thought. Kankurou was about ready to knock this 'Shikamaru' person out cold.

"No," Temari said finally, and pivoted so her back was to the two males as she walked away, leaving a confused Shikamaru, and a Kankurou who didn't know quite what to say.

o

Neji's eyes widened as Gaara approached, the red-head refusing to meet his gaze. As soon as he was within reach, Neji extended his arm, fingertips lightly brushing the ends of Gaara's hair aside to fully reveal the abrasion. His sharp inhalation was audible, causing Gaara to raise his head, looking tormented.

"What happened?" Neji's hand flickered over the wound, before promptly removing itself.

"Nothing…." Gaara breathed the word, trying to turn away, but Neji caught his wrist.

"Gaara."

Emerald green eyes stared emptily away, his mouth set in a thin line. He opened his lips a second, pausing, before answering. "Just a little fight. That's all."

"With who?"

Gaara shrugged. "I didn't know them."

Neji's hand stayed firmly clamped around Gaara's arm, as he drew him nearer, looking at the laceration once again, while his fingers danced lightly on Gaara's temple, sweeping back locks of crimson hair. Gaara felt his heart speed up a little, as Neji's breath lightly touched his ear, their bodies close, closer than he'd had been to anyone in a long while. It was almost to difficult to breath. His face was growing warm, even with the chillyness of the autumn air around them, and he found himself at a loss for words. Usually he would push the person away, if they were that close…but it was never like this. Out of concern, was that it? Neji was concerned for him? Gaara's mind couldn't exactly capture it.

Pain shot through Neji's chest as he felt the texture of the newly formed scab, compared the the regular smoothness of Gaara's skin. It seemed unlike him to care so much, and for someone he didn't know all that well... but it hurt him, especially Gaara's coldness. There was still much that remained unsaid between the two, and the more Neji learned about Gaara, the more he wanted to know. The boy was a locked door without a key, it seemed. And for some strange reason, something in the back of Neji's mind urged him to

wrap his arms around his friend, to hold him…

To make everything okay…

But reality isn't okay.

Tentatively, Neji took a step back, the warmth of his hand leaving Gaara's forehead. Silence dropped on them like a nuclear bomb, and Neji suddenly realized he still held Gaara's wrist, quickly releasing him, but neither moved farther apart, as if clinging to the moment. Neji couldn't believe it, but he could almost feel himself blush, and was too unnerved to look to Gaara's pale cheeks, to see if some colour had shown there as well. And both boys had vague looks on their faces, as if wondering 'What the Hell just happened…?'

Eventually, Neji shattered the uncomfortable calm, that made the air about as thick as it would've been right before a summer storm, the kind that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up straight with anticipation. The kind that fills the air with electricity, telling you something it going to happen.

"Your cold is gone," Gaara commented, a little boldly.

"Oh, yeah. I took something for it last night." Neji said in regular tones, "I'm not using the art room today at lunch, so we can eat outside, if you want."

Gaara nodded. It sounded a lot better then eating in the cafeteria, and it wasn't like he had anything else to do.

Besides, it was a Friday. Everyone loves Fridays, right?

Right.

o

The day proceeded as usual, class being boring, people argueing and just generally being annoyances. In the hall, Neji had pointed out a boy named 'Rock Lee' (Gaara raised an eyebrow at the name, causing Neji amusement), who walked down the hallway with a rather courageous look, considering his frightening haircut and eyebrows. He stopped outside the locker of the girl with pink hair, and got down on one knee, as a small crowd formed around them, obviously knowing something was up.

"My lovely Sakura!" he exclaimed, his eyes beginning to water, "So wonderful and fair! You are the only sun in my sky, your eyes the greenest of green! Please!"

By this time, that section of the hallway had silenced, and people were either snickering, or shaking their heads. Gaara heard the black-eyed boy mutter 'Not this again' as he trudged by, the chains and belts on his outfit clanging with each step, along the with metal blaring from his headphones. The pink-haired girl had turned around, and was staring at Lee with a look that lay somewhere between horror and bewilderment. He continued nonetheless, producing a bouquet of flowers from behind his back.

"I would die a happy man, if only you were to be my date for the Hallowe'en dance next Friday!"

Some of the onlookers were almost bursting with laughter at this point, and Gaara could hear Neji chuckling slightly to himself.

"He's so damn overdramatic," the white-eyed boy said, "Sometimes, I think she almost says yes ut of pity."

Lee stared up at Sakura, the look in his eyes fierce and determined. Sakura closed her locker, and sighed.

"I'm sorry, Lee, and the flowers are beautiful…. But I have my eye on someone else."

Lee's face fell, as Sakura pushed through the wall of people, dashing after the goth boy. Not that it was hard to find him, they could hear him practically at the other end of the hall.

Gaara found it strange, that these things happened so often, every day, yet he'd never really noticed them before. Life had been dreary, and anyone outside of a square metre around him had no importance whatsoever. It was peculiar, and he could almost feel he world opening to acknowledge him, instead of merely leaving him to watch. Whether he wanted to join or not, he wasn't sure. After all, that Lee boy was pretty scary…

Neji found himself smiling as he caught Gaara's expression, confused and somewhat perterbed.

"Have you ever felt like that?" Neji asked quietly, "So strongly about someone, you'd go to those lengths to get them to love you back?"

Gaara shook his head, still puzzled. "Why would he do something like that?"

"He claims to love her."

"Love…" the word seemed foreign in Gaara's mouth, coming out almost accented. He decided he didn't like this word, decided it was a synonym for weakness. Love was what caused people to do foolish things, and created only more wounds on hearts…. Love was vulnerability.

Love what was caused people pain…. Love caused their hearts to bleed…

"Do you believe in love?" Neji questioned, and Gaara's eyes hardened.

"I…don't know."

"Neither do I."

If love existed, why was the population of the earth in so much pain, and misunderstanding? Persecution still stained the pages, refusing to fade away, even in the most recent of chapters. True enough, love does not exist without its opposite; hate. But the balance just seemed off to Neji. Way off.

He knew he believed in hate. Hate he felt often, something he was all too familiar with and unafraid of. Love was something different altogether.

But secretly, he disagreed with what Lee had said back there…

Gaara's eyes were most definitely greener than Sakura's.

o

All through class, Neji kept peeking back to make sure Gaara was alright. He didn't know why, really, it wasn't like him at all. And it wasn't like Gaara was in any immediate danger, now was it? Even so, he found himself looking back every ten minutes or so, just to make sure. Gaara seemed fine, though his eyelids were often nearly half-closed as he skimmed through their readings.

Lunch came as a relief, and sent Gaara and Neji outside, first stopping at the cafeteria so Neji could buy an iced tea. He wasn't the soda type, of course, and Gaara got the oppurtunity to watch some more people, which was almost becoming a hobby of his.

The majority of their classmates had managed to pack themselves into two tables. This group included the pink haired girl, and her blonde haired nemesis, among others. A black-haired girl sitting at the end looked up, staring fearfully at Neji for a moment, before dropping her eyes back to her lunch, and giggling politely at a joke Naruto had told. Neji brushed this off, popping his money into the vending machine.

"Come on, you piece of shit…." he glared at the machine, a glare that scares all animate, and even some inanimate objects into submission, yet the vending machine refused to cooperate, instead spitting his money back out. He kicked it, then tried again.

Meanwhile, Gaara was busy studying a staring contest that had commenced between the black haired boy (Sasuke, he presumed, since that was the name the pink haired girl had been squealing as she chased after him) and Naruto. Everyone at the table seemed to be ingoring it, discussing a bitchy teacher, or the upcoming dance. Kiba was taking bets on how many girls would ask out Sasuke, much to Ino and Sakura's annoyment.

Ever so quickly, when no one was watching, Gaara saw Sasuke reach over and wipe a bit of sauce from Naruto's lip, then stick the end of his finger in his own mouth to get it off, smirking all the while. Naruto stared a few seconds, blushing, but not protesting, before giving Sasuke a grin, and turning back to Kiba to ask him again what about dog biscuits he found tasty (Kiba actually claimed them to be nutritious, but no one believed him). Sasuke just turned up the volume on his discman and continued eating his salad. And that was that.

Gaara whirled around as a hand landed on his shoulder, prepared to attack whomever had just touched him, but relaxed as he found Neji staring at him. "You looked as if you were about to kill me," the taller boy commented, "Come on, it smells awful in here."

Gaara nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets, glancing back at the table, behind which there was a window, displaying the street, lined with firey coloured trees in front of a pale grey sky. Leaves danced by in a whirlwind, the wind howling, and scratching at the glass pane that separated inside from out. Gaara didn't mind the cold. In fact, he favoured winter, of all months. Everything was cool, and white, and silent.

Standing outside, in the middle of a blizzard, you can almost hear death ringing in your ears…

Quietly, so quietly…

o

Lost from the world, the blonde sat at her usual lunch table, swinging her legs so that her right ankle hit a metal support, and a faint, empty ringing sound could be heard under chatter. Her whole body was in that slow distressed rhythm, as gently, she traced the line over her hand, where thick black thread bit into her skin. She had broken, and she needed to be sewn back up…

"Temari?" she glanced up, pushing her bangs out of her face to see the grin of one of her new friends.

"Oh…. Yes?"

"You haven't even touched your salad!"

'Someone noticed….'

"Can I have it? I forgot my lunch money today."

"Sure…." Temari pushed her tray over to the girl, bowing her head once more. Friends…. They weren't friends. Temari had been very reluctant to even talk to anyone, but she had settled in with the small group of girls, that weren't at the peek of popularity, but weren't uncool. She enjoyed spending time with them, most of the them anyways, but it just wasn't… like the friendship she wanted. It wasn't that.

Not that she'd ever really had many friends in the first place. She'd had a few in her old town, of course, and there were people she talked with, went to a movie with. But none of them really knew her. She was a bitch, and that's the way she liked people to view her.

After all, when people hate you, you can't hurt them as much as you could if they liked you. And they can't hurt you either.

She licked her lips, vaguely tasting orange juice, and closed herself to the world. She just needed to get through it. It was just a bad day….

Some people think they are alone. Some people want to be alone but can't quite manage it. Being alone to that extreme is enough to break someone. The emotions building in Temari made her just want to scream, to tear open her body, and demand 'why?'

You never really know how alone you are, until you get to there…

And 'there' can be a very lonely place.

o

"Hey…" Gaara said quietly, as they settled under a large tree, one of the many that decorated the yard, "Are those two boys…_together_?"

"Which ones?" Neji opened his fruit drink, the over-sugary smell of watermelon wafting out. The machine had refused to give him an iced tea, so he'd opted for that in its place.

"Naruto…and Sasuke."

"Those two?" Neji shook his head, cautiously reading the ingredients of his beverage, "I don't think so. They kinda seem to hate eachother. As different as night and day, really."

"Oh."

"Why?"

"Just thought…." the red-head shrugged.

"Do you believe, Gaara…" Neji asked quietly, "That it is wrong for two boys to love eachother?"

Gaara noticed the world 'love' sounded much better when Neji said it. What exactly was different about it was hard to say. It just sounded a little less painful….

"No," he answered in his slow, icy dialect, "It is not…wrong. It just is."

Neji was a small bit delighted at this information, as he bit into a carrot thoughtfully.

"Love is love," Gaara said, "Whatever that is."

He took a piece of plastic wrapped pizza from his plastic bag serving as a lunch pail, noting mentally that the bottom was burnt. Temari couldn't even microwave pizza properly… He took a bite, feeling his head begin to bow with his exhaustion. Neji looked over with a frown.

"You awake?"

"What?" Gaara's head snapped up, his eyes opening wide.

Neji leaned over, eyeing him. "You seem really tired. Did something happen last night?"

Gaara pursed his lips, swallowing before answering his friend. "Sorta…"

"Can you tell me?"

"My sister cut herself while cooking," Gaara explained, using the story Kankurou had thought up in case anyone asked, "It was pretty bad…. We had to go to the hospital."

"Gaara?"

He could no longer avoid Neji's gaze, clear white eyes transfiixd on him. His stomach began to rock, and his temperature rose, all symptons of guilt.

"You're eating pizza, Gaara. It looks like microwaveable stuff. And I don't think your sister cut herself cooking."

Gaara winced and stared at the ground. Never before had he had to deal with such things. Lying to councillors and adults was one thing, but lying to Neji was another. He felt them, his lies and faults, so very many of them, weighing on his shoulder, threatening to crush him right then and there. It tightened around his heart, squeezing, threatening to cut the ever so thin strings that attached him to the world.

"I'm sorry…" he whispered, but it didn't feel like nearly enough.

Neji sighed, not angrily though, setting down his drink. "I'm not demanding you tell me," he said, "But I don't want you to lie to me. If you don't want to talk about it, just say so."

He let the words sit, while Gaara debated them, breathing in and out slowly, hands playing with the strands of grass by his feet. Dead, and yellowing, thin and easily breakable. As soon as he pulled on them, they came out of the earth, leaving an ugly splotch of dirt where there before had been dried gold.

"After school…" he began, "Three guys tried to jump me, or something …that's what the scrape is from. And I just…couldn't sleep last night, so…"

Neji said nothing, waiting until Gaara felt ready to continue. Slowly, Gaara lifted his arms, lightly touching each fingertip of a hand with that of the other, before going back across.

"With a knife…" Gaara mumbled, expression weary.

Neji grabbed Gaara's hand in an instant, pulling up his sleeves to check. There was nothing there but smooth, creamy skin, that Neji had the temptation to kiss, to thank them for being unscathed. Gaara let him check the other wrist as well, alone with his calves. Nothing.

"I don't do that sort of thing," Gaara told him, as Neji ran his fingertips over the veins visible through Gaara's skin, head bowed and eyes misty.

"Have you ever wanted to?"

"Yes."

"Thank you," Neji looked up, pulling Gaara's sleeve back down, "For telling me that."

Gaara leaned back against the rough trunk of the tree, closing his eyes, and letting out his breath.

"Temari tried to get it away from me…and cut across her hand, by accident," Gaara took Neji's hand, tracing a line where Temari's lesion would've been, "We went to the hospital, so none of us got very much sleep."

Neji nodded, watching as Gaara's breathing began to slow, eyes slowing drifting shut. Sitting dangerously close to the boy, Neji pulled a book out of his bag, and started reading, the soft rhythm of Gaara's breathing almost like music. When it came time to turn the page, he hesitated, noticing Gaara's hand still lay over his, growing pink with chill. He gently slid his away, but found he could barely take his eyes off Gaara. What was it about watching someone while they slept that was so entrancing…?

For about forty minutes they stayed as such. Gaara was still dreaming, but had shifted unconciously, so that his arm was pressed against Neji's, head just inches from Neji's shoulder. Warmth so near.

"Gaara…"

The red-head stirred, chocolate brown lashes opening slightly, emerald orbs out of focus and misty. He righted his posture, drawing away from Neji slightly. He nodded, though still half-asleep. Neji couldn't help but smile at him.

"What…if I may ask…were you doing with the knife?"

Gaara's face stayed calm, as his brain worked itself through the question.

"I….I'm not sure, but…I just…" he bowed his head, "I couldn't sleep."

"It's fine. I was just wondering," Neji rubbed his neck, sore from reading, "You can go back to sleep if you want."

"That's okay," Gaara looked up, as another flurry of gold and amber came down, floating like butterflies on the wind, before they died from the frost, the icy hands of winter. Beautiful lies, that became bitter in his mouth. So delicate, fragile, and easy to see through, though glorious and elegant to watch. It seemed beautiful things never lasted…. And within the butterflies' black and lustrous bodies, there was blood, flowing just like in every other being, black legs sticky and clinging to your skin. Truth, dirty and foul, darker than the world becomes on a night without the pale white moon that watches over all. It was there, it was real, and it wouldn't go away.

_No, no it's not okay…_

End of Chapter 8


	9. Walking in Unstraight Lines

**Carousel**

Chapter 9: Walking in Unstraight Lines

Alternate Titles - _Neji and Gaara Get an Inside Joke_, or _Neji and Shikamaru; Philosophers at Heart?_

**AN:** Dude! I'm sorry this wasn't up Sunday, but the power at my house went out in the morning due to a freakin' snow storm, and didn't come back on until Monday afternoon. I brushed my teeth with boiled snow - dead serious. Besides, during the snow storm I decided to write one little bit of a scene to put on the end, just cause.

**Disclaimer:** - insert witty disclaimer here - 

Bright red vermillion, against, destroying, engulfing white.

Sinking, so far, so fast, barely able to breath.

The vermillion clawed at his skin, dancing furiously in and around him. No longer was the cold pleasant, was the pain welcome. It became nearly too much for him to even comprehend, so blinding and unforgiving, a muteness that stifled all.

_Forgive me…_

Blank and numb, he tried so hard, but there was only coldness and pain against his mouth, only bitter liquid in his lungs. His body was weighted, as he began to crumble, drawing his knees up to his chest.

Cold hands, wrapping around his neck, binding. Refuse to let go…

Helplessness took over as he fell, and not even a sound left his lips. It was silent, save the liquid rushing past him, as the light faded, growing smaller and smaller, so much that he could barely grasp it.

Darkness force fed him, but he refused to swallow. Somehow, it just didn't seem worth it anymore. Frozen and dimming, he was almost about to let go, to let it have his way with him. He was becoming a thin soul barely able to spread over the distance.

But a warmth blossomed, from deep within his chest, pushing up through him. Brilliant and smooth against him, it separated him from the red, disolving the ribbons of crimson that had bound themselves so tightly around him. He wasn't sure how, but when he opened his eyes it was gone, small droplets disappearing within the currents of milk. The light began to fade, though he could still feel it, the pounding inside of him. Clutching the skin above it, he found himself able to breathe once more.

And as he looked up, he discovered a hand peeking through the white, beckoning once more.

'Maybe…I do want to be saved.'

o

_Love_…

Such a simple word that held such vastness, and yet no clue to what it actually was. It manifested within Gaara's head, whispering to him at every waking moment and even in the few hours he slept. His conversations with Neji had been haunting him all weekend. Briefly he'd visited the playground, but there were only small children there and no sign of the ivory-eyed boy. That word, _love_, it somehow got under his skin, squirming and carving it's name. An itchy wound opened inside of him, calling out, and he couldn't seem to quiet it.

So finally, he'd decided to ask Temari. Not directly, mind you. Asking her _What is love?_ outright didn't seem at all like a smart thing to do. She would most likely proceed to bother him about it all day and all night until he either murdered her or said something he'd most likely regret, since she'd returned to her normal self Saturday morning.

On Sunday afternoon, he knocked on her bedroom door. Cautiously, his sister opened the door, raising an eyebrow at his presence. His blank expression was unnerving, even after the many years she'd been exposed to it.

"May I borrow one of your poetry books?" he asked quietly, much to her surprise. She paused for a moment, looking thoughtful. A sheen came across her eyes, as she reached up to the highest shelf on the bookcase, and pulled out a rather dusty and old looking book. A blood-red silk ribbon was attached to the inside, bookmarking a page near the middle. With shaking hands, Temari presented it to him.

"This," she murmured, "Belonged to Mom. I found it in the attic at the old house a few years ago, and kept it. I have some other stuff of hers but…. I'm sorry, you don't care about that. You can keep it for as long as you want. I won't tell Kankurou."

She gave him a smile, and he went back to his room. All lights were turned off, so that only the silver beams that filtered through the clouds were let in. He opened it to the first page, running his fingers over the rough paper, small blots of ink scattered randomly over it. It looked faded and worn, but adored. Three words had been written in loopy handwriting for the title, different from the type of the rest of the book.

_Belongs to Rain…_

Gaara eventually had to use a lamp to read, and stayed up all night - but he still barely read a fifth of it. He re-read each page at least three times, trying to find some kind of meaning to the phrases. Each poem was different, some filled with light and rhyme, others twisted and dark, stilling his heart. The same words had been read and cherished, by someone he didn't know, but someone who was still a large part of who he was…

And he still didn't have an answer as to what _love_ was.

But then again, maybe there was no answer.

He thought of asking Neji, but dismissed this option as well. Neji was his only friend. The only person who had ever really liked him in all his life, that hadn't hated him…. Somehow, he couldn't. He couldn't risk putting in danger something so fragile. It meant too much. And when you don't have much that means anything, you do all you can to hang onto it.

o

As the wheel of time turns, some things fade, while others grow stronger. The cycle never stops; Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter, Spring…. The warmth of summer fades, and the world prepares itself for sleep, days growing shorter, as night grows longer. The dream that is Winter settles, as the fruits of the Earth are harvested. The Moon, low and full in the sky, watches kindly over Her children, and weeps as the Sun is hidden away, but knows He will return in the spring, as brilliant and warm as ever.

That Monday morning, the gutters were filled with dead leaves, the colour sucked out of them. However, many trees still wore fire upon their branches, bright against the greying sky. Hallowe'en, earlier known and still known to some as Samhain, was approaching rapidly, and the veil between the world's was about to reach it's thinnest point. You could feel it on the wind, how it whispered in your ear, some voices kind, others full of malice. It wasn't like depicted on TV; restless spirits and vampires choosing to terrorize people who entered their abodes. Simply a time to look back and remember, as the cycle will soon begin anew. To remember those who have passed on…

_The wheel continues to turn…_

o

"Mondays suck," was all Kankurou could manage, as Temari pulled him out the door, still half-asleep. Gaara waited on the side-walk, his arms crossed and a pensive/impatient look about his face.

Mariko waved from the kitchen window. She'd arrived home Saturday afternoon, with the unfortunate news that she'd have to be leaving them alone for short periods of time over the next few months, as her aunt had fallen and broke her hip. Her return had restored both sanity and edible food to the household.

"It's your fault," Temari protested, as she dragged him along by the sleeve, "You were the one who was up so late last night! Geez, you know it's impossible to write an essay in a day!"

"Is not!" the oldest boy protested, but the bickering stopped with Gaara's annoyed sigh, meeting heavily the air, though the two siblings continued glaring at eachother. Kankurou yawned, shrugging off his drowsiness.

"I mean, really, who needs sleep?"

Temari elbowed him in the gut, and Gaara turned back briefly to make sure they hadn't killed eachother. But even in that quick instance, both caught something hiding beneath his eyes. Something none of the three could place.

o

"You look tired," Neji commented from beside the pale green locker door. He leaned against the locker beside Gaara's, as the shorter boy shuffled through his things. As usual, the inside was a disaster; books, paper and other assorted items all piled together to make what is called mess. Gaara's bag had been lost within it, and he was doing all he could to find it.

"Get enough sleep?" the dark-haired boy continued, his tone a mix of concern and amusement.

"I was reading," Gaara said, finally catching a glimpse of the black material of his backpack. He took hold of it, and pulled, though it remained mostly stuck.

"Oh? What book?"

With one strong tug, the bag came loose, sending Gaara stumbling backwards along with an array of text books and binders. Off-balance, he felt himself falling bakwards, before a hand firmly caught the material of his sleeve and pulled him upright. A few seconds passed, during which Gaara was able to catch his breath, and Neji reluctantly let go of his shirt.

"Sorry."

"There's no need to be."

Gaara knelt to the ground, shoving his things back into his locker, then reaching within the folds of black material, his hands found the textured cover. Holding it in one hand, he let the strap of his bag rest in the crook of his arm as they began walking down the semi-crowded hall. Running his fingertips over the uneven, yellowed pages, Gaara tried to form words on his tongue. And as usual, Neji let him take his time. But some people dislike how slow time can be sometimes, and disrespect it altogether. Such was the case with Uzumaki Naruto.

"Hey guys!" came his yell, as he ran up behind the pair. Gaara startled and Neji's eyebrow twitched slightly as the blonde leaned an arm on each other their shoulders, forcing a small distance between them.

"Are you guys eating outside again?" he asked, rather obnoxiously.

"We were going to, yes," Neji answered, each word stressed.

"Dude! You should come and eat in the cafeteria with the rest of us!" Naruto insisted, firmly pushing both to the left. Despite muttered protests from Neji, and blank stares from Gaara, they ended up sitting at one of the two tables Naruto's group had packed themselves into. Gaara sat across from Neji, with the nearly overwhelming presence of Ino to his right. Right off the bat she began ranting to him about just how cute his haircut was, and his mother's book was slipped back into his bag, forgotten for the time being.

And beside Neji was Naruto, who had taken to loudly slurping his ramen - much to the annoyment of Sasuke, who had somehow been squished between the blonde and Sakura. Just a few minutes in, the goth felt a tap on his shoulder. Behind him stood a girl one year older, whose top showed an indecent amount of cleavage. She leaned down next to him, practically shoving Sakura out of the way.

"Hey, Sasuke…" she purred, "You know, there's a dance this Friday and-"

"No."

"What?"

But Sasuke had already turned back around. The rejected girl (no one actually knew her name, she was simply known as Whore #09) stomped off, while Sakura and Ino both mocked her. While they were doing so, Sasuke leaned his head a little towards Naruto, and mumbled quietly, "Jealous?"

Naruto glared back, slurping his ramen. "Not on your life."

Meanwhile, at the second table, Shikamaru leaned over to Kiba.

"How many is that now?"

The wild-eyed boy fished a notepad out of his pocket, making a mark on one of the pages. "That would be the third one to ask Sasuke today, but in the grand scheme of things…. Eight."

Shikamaru whistled in response, glancing across the table. "You're nearly out of the running then, Chouji. I told you, it's gonna be at least ten."

Chouji shrugged and kept on eating. Meanwhile, TenTen (sitting beside Ino) had taken to consoling Lee. He stared at the table, head bowed, barely responding to her words.

"Come on, Lee," she pleaded, "It's not the end of the world. Lots of people get rejected - er, sorry, that was the wrong word. Turned down. Lots of people get turned down! Don't worry about it, really! If it makes you feel any better, I'll go to the dance with you, since no one is going to ask me anyways."

Ino snorted. "I wouldn't be so sure about that, TenTen."

The bun-haired girl sipped her soda quietly. "It's alright, Ino, you don't have to pay people to ask me out again. I don't mind going with Lee."

Lee sighed, and began poking at his pasta. "No, TenTen. Your sacrifice is most noble, but you don't have to waste such a youthful experience on my pitiful self."

'God, he sounds like Gai-sensei more everyday,' she thought fearfully, referring to their English teacher, who had a tendency to take entire classes up by ranting about how everyone was wasting their youth or something of that sort. (AN to Kokuei no Onchuu: Remind you of anyone?)

"So, Gaara, you're like, coming to the dance, right?" asked Ino, leaning closer to said teen.

"I… don't…"

"Of course you are!" Ino said, stealing one his cookies, "And Neji's coming too!"

Neji glared at her, but just like with the vending machine, it had no effect.

"You don't have to wear a costume or anything," Ino continued, "But you might want to wear something nice. Not that I'm insulting your fashion sense or anything, it's just that- Oh, you know what? You would look _really_, and I mean _really, really_ cute in-"

"Ino?"

She turned innocently to Neji. "Yes?"

"If we agree to go, will you shut up?" She nodded eagerly, and he sighed. "Fine. We'll go."

Satisfied, Ino went back to pestering TenTen. Naruto was trying to attract Sakura's attention (not doing a very good job, mind you) leaving Gaara and Neji to themselves for probably the first time all lunch hour.

"You seem overwhelmed," Neji told him, and Gaara nodded reluctantly. It was true; the amount of energy in those two tables was probably enough to power the entire town. You know, if that was possible….

"Oh, right. The book." Gaara instictively reached for his bag, but a wave of Neji's hand stopped him.

"Don't show me here; it'll get dirty, no doubt. How about we go to the park after school?"

Gaara nodded in agreement, daring a smile.

o

After lunch on Mondays came art, which wasn't so bad. Gaara could barely pay attention though, his mind was buzzing with all that was happening. For starters, he was going to this 'dance' thing. He had a vague idea of what happened, since he'd nver actually been to one, nor been interested in going. Thoughts overflowing he turned his focus to that which at in front of him.

Which was a large lump of greyish clay, that he was somehow supposed to make into emotion.

That was just about all the instruction Kakashi had given them at the begginning of class, before immersing himself in his 'literature' once again. Music blared from the stereo in the back, and light chatter filled the room. At another table, Neji was hard at work at whatever he was making, as was just about everyone else. But Gaara couldn't quite think of anything. He poked at the clay with wet fingers, but he still couldn't see anything. So he decided to turn to Sasuke for advice.

"What're you making?" he asked casually but still coldly, watching Sasuke strike at his lump with a popsicle stick.

"Hate."

Didn't see that one coming.

Maybe, Gaara thought, he could just leave the lump as it was and say it was boredom. Boredom wasn't really an emotion though, and he really doubed Kakashi would believe him. He pressed his fingers into the cold surface again, feeling it mold to his desire. It was an odd feeling, especially since the clay was so lacking in warmth, and left his fingers with a strange texture. It wouldn't shape properly either, and kept squishing in the wrong direction or breaking apart. Gaara was glad they had a double period, as twenty minutes had passed, as he still had nothing, while everyone else seemed to at least have something.

"How're you doing?" a voice came from behind him, and he found Neji peering over his shoulder.

"Not so good."

"Well, what are you trying to make?" Neji inquired, leaning a little on Gaara's shoulder for balance. His hands had been washed, and unlike Gaara's, were free of clay.

In response, Gaara shrugged, and poked at the lump. He heard Neji laughed, and the taller boy dipped his hands in the small cup of water on the table.

"You have to work the clay, first of all," he said, not in a condescending manner, but a kind, helpful one. He began kneading the grey mass, as Gaara watched. Soon, Neji had the clay in a more shapable state, his hands grey, small chunks hiding under his short fingernails. His movement was peculiar to Gaara, the way his hands flitted here and there, creating something, only to make it into something else seconds later, eventually returning it to blob shape.

"Give me your hands," he requested softly, and Gaara complied. Neji's skin, smooth and clammy from the clay, covered his just lightly. They settled into the touch quickly, though the air seemed to get just a little thicker.

"Have any ideas?" Neji asked, using Gaara's hands to roll the clay into a ball.

"I'm not sure," the red head stated, "I don't really know how to make anything."

"Well then, just make _something,_" Neji continued, "Art - _real art _- isn't set within straight lines and held by reality. Real art is it's own universe, of things that can't exist where we are. Set within rules and limits, you can never truly be free. It's this bland and ugly reality that makes people's minds so unaccepting of what's different, what is truly beautiful. A world without variegation would be no more than a prison. Living would become a chore. Art is taking our world, and capturing how fascinating and wonderful every little thing is…"

His hands lifted themselves from Gaara's, and the green-eyed boy wished that his friend hadn't stopped talking. It had been comforting, in a way.

"What I meant to say was… just do what you feel like," Neji shrugged, unsatisfied with his explanation, but caught the look Kakashi was giving him, and nodded to Gaara before making his way back to his desk.

Neji's words in mind, Gaara let his fingers sink into the clay. He let his hands go where ever, his thoughts drifting father and farther away. Still, things evaded him, ducking into corners, and hiding behind the many doors. He ran down corridors, chasing it, and yet it laughed, taunting him and his childish search. Candles lit themselevs along the path he divined. He reached his hands into the darkness that was always a step ahead, and snapped at his heels from behind. The inky substance clung to him, and he pulled back, finding in his grasp something he couldn't quite see. So vivid it was painful to look into, it heated his hand, not quite enough to cause a burn.

He wasn't even aware of the reality around him, until he heard a crash from across the room. Looking up, he discovered it had just been Naruto leaning too far back on his chair. Again.

"Idiot," Sasuke muttered from Gaara's right, but a little bit of a smile graced his lips.

Blinking, the red head looked to the clock, discovering there was less than ten minutes until the second art period ended. Then in front of him he discovered _something_. Just quite what was beyond him. But he liked it better that way.

What he had made was hard to desribe with words - you'd need to see it to really understand. The curving appendages that twisted upwards and out, as if unwrapping and falling away. It was far from perfect; the texture uneven and you could see streaks and fingerprints. But he kind of liked it.

At Kakashi's word, the class began to clean up, putting their works on plastic plates with their name and the emotion written on it. Gaara paused, thinking a moment before deciding what it was - or what he _thought_ it was.

_Friendship_…

Alright, so maybe that wasn't an emotion. But he couldn't put it into one word. It was… It was the warmth he felt with Neji, maybe what was starting with other people. It was how vulnerable, yet confortable, he felt in Neji's presence. That which spurred his heart, and though he chased it, he could never quite capture it. It swam in his mouth, but there was no sound. No, there was no word for it.

Or maybe, no word he was prepared to say just then.

o

"Belongs to Rain…"

Neji was perched on the monkey bars, legs swinging back and forth thoughtfully. Gaara had found himself a seat on one of the slides, and was watching through slitted eyes the people running through the field, playing soccer/football. A group of small girls built a sandcastle nearby, and one of the swings sang in empty harmony, as it had only the wind to push it back and forth.

Gaara watched Neji's eyes run over the words, pausing here and there, reading quietly aloud to himself, so it looked like his mouth was moving without sound. He looked over at Gaara with an impressed look.

"This is really interesting!" he called, "Where did you get it?"

Sitting up, Gaara rolled his shoulders to stretch and work out the kinks. They had been there good half hour, after Gaara had told Temari of their plan when they met outside the gates. Neji waited patiently off to the side, knowing well when it wasn't his ground to tread upon.

"It was…" Gaara averted his gaze, "My mother's…"

Another page turned, the action a little shaky, but Neji caught and stilled himself, taking a deep breath.

"I was reading it, because…" the green-eyed boy gave another silence, but became more sure of himself. "I was trying to find out… what love is."

"Well, that's a pretty big, and confusing topic," Neji said, "But I salute you on your quest, Sir Gaara."

"Would you mind if I asked for your assistance, Squire Neji?" Gaara asked in return, mocking Neji's phoney British accent. Neji, who wasn't expecting a response as such, hopped off the monkey bars and over to Gaara.

"Of course, good knight," the long-haired boy continued, and both laughed. Not forced, not nervous, not hurtful, and not afraid.

It would be nice if people could laugh like that more often.

"Here," Neji said, setting the back down in Gaara's lap, his hands shaking just a little, "I don't want you to be late getting home."

He covered one of his wrists with his other hand, and squeezed minutely, but it was barely noticeable.

_White may not be as pure as it would have you think._

o

"You know, if you keep lying here like this, someone's going to squish you."

Shikamaru lazily turned an eye to the girl. "Oh. You again."

Resisting the urge to kick him, Temari crossed her arms. "You aren't normal."

"Is anyone normal? Or is 'normal' just a concept humanity fashioned to make ourselves feel accepted and wanted by others?"

She blinked a few sconds, then gave a half-smile.

"You're probably right," she muttered and he nodded.

"You can learn a lot from clouds."

"Uh-huh…" she said, "Hey, isn't my brother in your class?"

"Short? Scary-looking?"

"That would be him."

"He's cool," Shikamaru commented, "Doesn't talk a lot."

A littl reluctantly, Temari crouched down on the dying grass beside him. He could see pen marks on her jeans; stars and scribbles form when she'd gotten bored during class.

"What's so great about clouds?" she asked, looking upwards.

He shrugged, and let her watch with him for a few minutes before she mumbled something about going home and left, though her eyes still drifted up to the sky.

End of Chapter 9


	10. That You Are Here

**Carousel**

Chapter 10: That You Are Here

The end line of this chapter is from 'Empress of the World' by Sara Ryan, which I highly reccomend. But don't own. 

**Disclaimer:** Disclaim this! Bwahahahahahahahaa! …that was lame.

**Thursday - Period Seven**

"Alright class! Sit down and shut up!"

The yell echoed through the gym, as every student dropped to the ground, mouths shut. Except for Naruto, of course, who continued babbling to Sakura for a while, until a basketball was rammed into the back of his head. Looking behind him, he found himself under the intense glare of Mitarashi Anko.

"Do you have something of dire importance to say, Naruto?"

The blonde-haired boy waited a few seconds, then gave her a large grin. "No Ma'am!"

"Good. Next time you get laps. Now, as I was saying…" the dark-haired woman bounced the ball a few times, while walking beack and forth in front of the group. Gaara personally thought she should've been a drill sergeant, but knew much better than to say so in her presence. Gym class was always something he dreaded. He wasn't great at sports, like Neji and Sasuke were, but he wasn't terrible either. Sports just didn't really interest him.

"Today we are starting our basketball unit. Is everyone excited?"

She was met with a chorus of murmured affirmatives and a snicker.

"I said, are you excited!"

"Yes Ma'am!"

"That's what I wanna hear!" she caught the ball as it bounced back up, and held it out in front of her. "Now, who can tell me about what is in my hands?"

There was a pause, as the students tried to figure out if this was a trick question. Finally, Kiba raised his hand, and with Anko's nod, yelled out, "It's orange!"

"Excellent. What else? Come on, it's not that hard!"

Naruto decided that if Kiba could say something stupid and not get punished, he should be able to as well. He waved his hand frantically. "And it's round!"

"Correct!"

Over the next few minutes there was a series of statements, such as 'It has bumpy thingies on it!', 'It bounces!', and 'It's a basketball!', until Anko felt her students had had enough fun and abruptly stopped it.

"So you all know what a basketball is …" she smirked, "Therefore you don't need to look at it anymore! Everyone, go get a ball! Five laps, people, let's hustle! Keep your head up!"

A while later, Gaara near-collapsed on the floor, having finally finished his laps. Still dribbling was a group of girls, giggling, along with Shikamaru and Chouji, who simply didn't want to move any faster than they had to. Anko waited, spinning the ball on her index finger, as the majority of the student's caught their breath.

"Breathe in your nose, then out your mouth."

Gaara looked over to Neji, who didn't seem to be tired at all.

"It actually helps you recover a lot faster." the long-haired boy told him, rolling a ball on the floor with his fingertips.

"You're fast," Gaara mumbled, and Neji looked a little irked.

"I used to be…"

Before Gaara could inquire further, Anko began again.

"Before I actually start teaching you guys, I want to see how well you play. So today, we're doing one on one matches. First off… " her eyes scanned the crowd of eager (and not so eager) faces with a sadistic glint.

"How about… Uzumaki Naruto-"

"Yes!"

"And…" Anko licked her lips as her eyes fell over one boy in particuliar. The tension between him and the blonde was _intense_.

"Uchiha Sasuke!"

Sasuke got to his feet calmly, as the rest of the class moved off to the benches, watching intently as Anko brought the two to centre.

"First basket wins," she announced, bringing her whistle to her mouth. "Play nice, boys."

The ball dropped, and the battle began. Naruto was able to take control of it first, and Sasuke moved back, a nearly electric glint in his eyes. The blonde dribbled a bit, not moving very far, as if waiting for Sasuke to wait a move. But both knew that wasn't his style at all, and sure enough, Naruto burst forwards, sprinting down the right side of the gym and towards the net. But where he was fast, Sasuke was always faster. The black-eyed boy was chasing alongside him effortlessly, still not going much on the offensive.

"What's wrong, Sasuke?" Naruto growled quietly as he tried to pass his opponent, but to no avail. "Why aren't you _trying_?"

Sasuke said nothing though, eyes flickering over Naruto. They were as different as night and day, sun and moon. Locked in a battle that could not quite be won, for as light diminishes shadow, darkness chases away the rays of the sun.

Naruto jumped to the side, taking a shot. But Sasuke knocked the ball away, taking possession of it immediately. Before Naruto could fully react, Sasuke streaked around him, making his way to the other side of the net. Naruto refused to give up the chase, tension so thick there was silence on the sidelines. Even the members Sasuke's personal cheerleading squad were watching intently the struggle.

"He's going to lose," Gaara heard Neji whisper to him, and he raised an eyebrow in inquisition.

"Naruto's angry," the white-eyed boy explained, "There's no way he can win like this."

Gaara's gaze fell back on the match, watching as Naruto tried to get the ball from Sasuke, but his movements only grew more wild and uncontroled. As Sasuke raised his arms to shoot, the blonde lunged. Sasuke dodged, but just barely, and the ball headed towards the net. Naruto looked up quickly, smirking as the ball hit the backboard and bounced back towards them.

"Ha!" he exclaimed, "You mis-"

He stopped as he saw Sasuke catch the rebound, and toss the ball effortlessly into the net. A three pointer.

Silence filled the gymnasium as Naruto gaped and Sasuke landed like a cat. The ball hit the ground, and bounced off to the side, and then cheering filled the air.

"Whoot! Go Sasuke-kun!" came Sakura's yell, followed by Ino's "I knew you could do it!"

"Not as much as I did!"

"Shut up Sakura! How could anyone with a forehead that large ever know anything about Sasuke-kun!"

"At least I'm not a pig!"

"Alright, girls, settle down." Anko shook her head, jogging over to relcaim the ball. "Good job guys."

Any joy on Naruto's face disapeared as he discovered Sasuke standing over him, arm outstretched to offer his hand to him. The blonde stared in disgust, but Sasuke stayed emotionless.

"Is my hand not good enough for you?"

A sharp smack hushed everyone, as Naruto hit Sasuke's hand out of the way. He then pulled himself to his feet and stomped passed Sasuke, making sure their shoulders crashed against eachother. The black-haired boy stared after him a while, before making his way to the bench farthest away from the one Naruto had chosen. His cheerleaders flocked around him, but he stared forwards, ignoring them until Anko forced them to take their seats once more, calling two more students up. But no one was quite focused.

Sasuke continued gazing at the wall, resting his chin on his clasped hands, elbows resting on his knees. Naruto refused to break eye contact with the floor.

It seemed if either dared to move their eyes from the target, they would end up looking at eachother.

Gaara found it fascinating, though he tried to mask it, glancing secretly back and forth from boy to boy. And Neji, in turn, found Gaara's interest in it intrigueing.

"Gaara! Lee!" Anko waved the two boys over, "You're next!"

_Next victims, _Neji couldn't help but think, giving Gaara a small push forwards. "Good luck. Lee usually fakes to the right."

Gaara glanced back to thank Neji, but at that moment, the entire gym was plunged into darkness. For a few moments there was utter chaos, girls shrieking and crashing into eachother, before people's eyes began to adjust.

"Everyone, stop!" Anko's disembodied voice came, "Don't move, don't talk!"

"Can we breathe?" came another's voice and there was nervous laughter, that quickly died. The only sound was the precipitation against the roof, loud and eerie cacophony. Gaara took an unsure step in Neji's direction, trying to peer through the veil of black.

"Must be hail," Anko mused, "Crappy wather we keep getting. 'Kay, everyone find your way to a wall, and follow it to the main door, where I am! Please put one hand out in front of you, and uh, avoid groping if at all possible!"

More nervous laughter.

Gaara reached a hand out towards where Neji had been, vaguely able to see the white-eyed boy.

"You there?" he asked, and felt Neji's hand meet his.

"Yeah, right here."

Gaara walked forwards until he found Neji and the cool surface of the wall, and their hands disconnected. There was an instant in which Gaara could hear Neji's breathing, vividly and near. But quickly he turned and began following everyone else, just footsteps in the dark.

It turned out that the rain had frozen on the power lines and tree branches, and the power was temporarily out. Fortunately, the students were told it would be back on in time for the dance the next night, and everyone's moods were uplifted. Well, just about everyone.

o

Candles flickered, vague warmth in the dampness that had settled in the house. When Gaara had gotten home, he discovered their house had no power either. Kankurou glared at the TV set a while before retreating to their room, while Temari decided to make some phone calls in hers. Mariko was taking a nap, which left Gaara on his own. Only blue light had filtered through the windows, so he dug out some candles from the china cabinet and lit them, very careful not to drop the matches once they were lit. He did that once, and his father had gotten angry. Gaara winced at the memory.

There were four assorted candles, one sitting on the table across the room to shed some light into the hallway, while he had the other three on the coffee table near to him. He watched as his breath reached out to the flame, bending, growing and dancing. When his held his hand over it, he could feel the warmth. Sometimes he waited until it felt like his skin was melting off the muscle and bone beneath to take it away. One of the candles gave off a faint scent, but he couldn't place it, smoke twisting and curling, disappearing should he try and touch it.

"They're lovely."

He turned around to find Mariko in the doorway, a bit drowsy still from sleep. She sat down on the couch next to him, giving a bleak smile.

"I heard the power was off at your school."

He nodded, and she opened her greyish eyes a little more, watching the flames.

"I don't mind you lighting candles. Just don't burn yourself."

Again he nodded, pursing his lips before he spoke, fingers digging into the soft paisley material of the couch. "Um…"

She glanced over at him, kindly smiling, though her hair was rather messed and her robe wrinkled from sleep. "Yes?"

"There's… a Hallowe'en dance tommorow night. Could I go?"

Ingoring the fact that Gaara didn't usually say more than that in an entire week, besides 'yes' and 'no's, Mariko picked her book off the coffee table. "Sure. It's good that you're getting out."

Gaara let out his breath and stood, bowing his head slightly in thanks. He took one candle, holding it carefully in his hands, as he made his way to his bedroom. Through the wall, he could hear Temari's muffled giggles, though they seemed half-hearted.

As he opened his door, he found himself staring at Kankurou who stood there with an evil grin on his face.

"What's this I hear about a dance, pipsqueak?"

Gaara glared, walking past him. He set the candle down on the windowsil, hearing Kankurou sit down on his bed, his smile now not as evil as before, but still marginally so.

"Well?" Kankurou raised an eyebrow, and Gaara looked away.

"Yeah."

"Did a _girl_ ask you?"

"Not… really."

"Come on, Gaara, it's not that hard a question." Kankurou began cracking his knuckles, much to Gaara's annoyment. "But trust me, kiddo, girls are nothing but trouble. Always wanting you to do stuff for them, never satisfied. It's really not worth it. Get a girlfriend when your older, or whatever, at this age it'll just screw you up more than you… Well, a lot. Kay?"

Gaara crossed his arms, watching raindrops race down the windowpane. "I don't _like_ girls."

"Yeah, sure you don't," Kankurou muttered, "Least you have friends now, though. Like that freaky looking guy."

Gaara's face lightened a little at the mention. Friends. People who liked you. No one had ever liked him before. He was 'weird', and anyone who had ever shown any interest in him whatsoever just wanted something. Even his father hated him. So he started thinking, maybe hat was the way it worked. He was hated. End of story.

Yet it was starting to change, and rapidly so. He and Neji had started sitting with Naruto's group, and he'd even managed conversation, weird as it often was. They didn't hate him, like everyone else did, and it caused a strange warmth to blossom in his chest, something he had never felt before. Especially around Neji. And he was really starting to like it.

Once, a few summers ago, Temari had come home from camp with a large smile on her face, and decided to show him and Kankurou the 'Trust Fall'. As far as Gaara understood, you stand with your arms crossed and eyes closed, and fall back so someone can catch you. Gaara thought it was silly; what if the person decided to let you fall? Temari had said that's where the trust came in. You trust your partner to catch you. Gaara was always afraid he would fall, and never once tried.

If he were to fall, would Neji catch him?

And if Neji were to fall…

"So, is your friend going to the dance too?" Kankurou asked, but Gaara never got a chance to respond, as in that instant the door flew open and Temari flew across the room, glomping him.

"Aww! A dance! That's soo cute!" she exclaimed, as he tried to pull away from her embrace.

"Hey! Do you mind?" Kankurou yelled, "We were kinda having a brotherly moment here!"

Temari paused and gave him an apologetic smile before returning to gushing over her youngest brother, who was slowly backing away, much to Kankurou's amusement.

Outside the window, the rain continued to fall, the droplets glistening in the light of the candle, it's warmth both comforting and frightening.

o

There was a clanging as the ball hit the metal hoop, bouncing away. The boy scrambled after it, cursing loudly to himself. He wiped a bit of mud from his cheek, but it did no good, as his hands, along with the rest of him, were covered in tiny splatters of dirt, streaked from the rain pounding down upon him. Thunder rumbled around him, but he took no notice, furiously trying to make the basket.

Everyone had left quickly after school, teachers and students alike. So no one had been there for the last half hour while he desperately tried to prove something to himself, trying again and again to win against himself. The hail had turned into a cold rain, which might've been worse. His fingers were near-frozen, and the ground was wet and slippery, but he just pushed himself harder, harder. His straw-coloured hair was plastered to his face, and he pushed it out of his eyes, blinking away the tears.

He tossed the ball again, though he lost traction as he landed, coming down hard on his side. He made no sound, hauling himself to the feet while the sky continued to cry for him.

"Dammit…" he muttered, looking around with hazy vision. He stopped as a figure entered the frame, picking up the ball, while staring at him.

"What the Hell do you want, Sasuke?" Naruto yelled, perhaps a little louder than he meant to. Sasuke watched him, equally as soaked. As soon as the blonde was stable again, Sasuke tossed him the ball. Naruto snarled, turning his face away as Sasuke walked forwards. Neither spoke, still trying to adjust to the fact that there was no one else around.

"You're going to get sick, idiot." Sasuke muttered to him, and Naruto curled his hands into fists, blue eyes alight.

"It's none of your business!"

"Why are you still out here?" Sasuke demanded, a little more forcefully than before.

The blonde gritted his teeth, on the verge ofattacking. "Why are you?"

"You're going to get sick," Sasuke said again, placing a hand on Naruto's shoulder. The shorter boy flinched, taking one step back.

"You won't give me a straight answer," Naruto protested, his lungs begginning to burn a little less when he breathed. Sasuke's fingers were just as cold against the soaked material of his jacket, almost shaking, trembling. They stood there a few moments, glaring at eachother, trying desperately not to give in.

Naruto drew in breath sharply as he felt Sasuke's fingers travel up his neck, sheer coldness against his cheek. Sasuke was close, so close, and Naruto could see specks of kohl beneath his bottom lashes, the rest smudged from the rainwater dripping down his face. Coal black eyes, speckled with shards of red stared at him, asking questions not meant to be said outloud. The basketball fell to the ground, rolling away quietly as the distance between them began to close.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Naruto asked softly, so quiet it was barely a whisper, nearly drowning by the rain, relentlessly drumming down on them.

"Something you might not want me to do," was Sasuke's only response, as he gave a weak smile, and the distance between their lips ceased to exist for a few moments. He wasn't at all surprised when he felt Naruto kiss him back, warm breath passing close over skin. After a few seconds they pulled away, breathless and captivated. Both were locked in vision of eachother, unable to draw away. Words were hard to form, but eventually they came.

"You really should go home and dry off," the taller boy mumbled, slowly removing his hand from Naruto's cheek.

The blonde smirked. "Since when did rain ever kill anyone?"

"Pft. Idiot."

But we all know that words don't always work…

End Chapter 10


	11. Black and White Undertones of Friday

_**Carousel**_

Chapter 11: Black and White Undertones of Friday

**Disclaimer**: disclaimed.

o

Love is like a dance. Sometimes, you're clumsy, messing up the moves and stepping on eachother's toes. You might even fall, and hurt yourself or your partner. Everyone may laugh, and dissaprove. You could look into the eyes of the person you hold, and wonder exactly where it all went.

But you may not. Maybe you'll get everything perfect, graceful and smooth. Everything will be on time, and even if you make mistkes, it's natural, and you can get back on your feet with the help of their hands. You can't wait until they put their hands on you, holding you, touching you. And maybe not everyone will applaud, but your heart won't care. Strings of burden and worry come undone, and all you have is eachother. But that's all you need sometimes. Even long after the lights go out, in your perfect mismatched harmony…

Press your head tightly to their chest, feeling their strong heartbeat, so real. Breath becoming short as you cling tighter and tighter to achother, so much that it hurts.

You see them suffer, when you suffer, when you edge away a little. Everyone falls, but they fall with you, and are always the ones to help you back up.

And it starts to seem like all the mistakes are yours. Your heart is the one that's causing everything to crumble.

So you let go.

And both of you fall.

With no way to get back up.

And you can't help feeling the taste of yet another mistake in your mouth…

o

"Hey."

Neji looked up from his doodles, to where Gaara stood beside his desk. They were supposed to have gym in the previous period, but due to the set-up of the dance, it had been canceled and they were forced to do crosswords instead. Presently they were in math, waiting for Iruka to come back from where-ever he was. But the dance was all anyone was talking about; who's going with who, who will end up 'hooking up', even who might break up!

"Where were you at lunch?" Gaara asked quietly, peering at Neji's doodles, which were just curvy lines drawn in black pen, branching out from the corner of the page.

"I'm sorry I forgot to tell you," Neji started, eyes darting away, "I was… just… "

The door clicked shut at that moment and the lights were turned off. Iruka stood in the doorway, his eyes wandering over the class.

"Naruto," he said in an exasperated tone to the student crouched, mostly unseen, at a corner in the back, "What on earth are you doing with those metre sticks?"

"Oh, this?" Naruto shoved it behind his back, a piece of tape still stuck to his hand.

"Let me see." Iruka glared, and Naruto nervously gave a laugh, slowly handing Iruka what he'd made.

"A sniper rifle?" Iruka almost chuckled as he inspected the heavily taped objects, "How surprisingly creative."

"So…?"

"Do it again and you have detention."

"Thought so."

(AN: A classmate of KnO and mine _actually_ did that.)

Iruka sighed, turning back to his pupils. "Well, you guys are lucky. There's no math today. Instead we'll be decorating the gym for the dance."

There was an eruption of cheers, and Iruka felt slightly disheartened at the lack of enthusiasm towards his class.

"Some of you will be going to the Art Room with me to get supplies, and the rest of you will head down to the gym," Iruka continued. He decided upon the group that would help him (a group that included Neji, Gaara and Naruto) and soon everyone was heading out the door. Sasuke tried to hurry through the crowd, to try and reach Naruto, but the blonde was already half-way down the hall. The black-haired boy clenched his fist, and trudged along with the rest of the class.

It was becoming rather annoying, how Naruto had been evading him. His lips still ached, numb and longing for another taste.

The silence was growing tiresome.

_Why are you avoiding me, Naruto?_

When Iruka's group reached the art room, they found they were not the only ones there. Outisde the door, Gai was crouched, pressing his ear to the door.

"Um, Gai?" Iruka poked him, raising an eyebrow. Gai jumped, almost crashing into the wall behind him.

"Ssh!" he 'whispered' to Iruka, "Kakashi had almost let his guard down, and you- "

"I can hear you, Gai!" came the art teacher's voice and Gai mentally cursed, opening the door with a flourish.

"You may have found me out this time," The thick-eyebrowed man yelled, "But next time, my rival, I shall get you!"

"Yeah… Don't you have a class you're supposed to be teaching?"

Gai paused. "Oh. Right. But I shall return!"

With this he dashed down the hall, annoyed with himself for wasting some of his student's precious moments of youth. Iruka sighed, peeking his head in the door.

"Oh, hi Iruka," Kakashi said calmly, "You skipping too?"

The class had remained silent since Gai's outburst, but at this point went back their work. Iruka gave a small wave, stepping inside.

"No, we're just getting some stuff to decorate the gym." he told the silver-haired man, opening the door wider to let the small group in. Neji led them to the storage closet, where they were supposed to get various art supplies. Mostly streamers, mural paper and paint, as Iruka trusted anything they painted would end up being 'very scary'.

"Neji," Gaara said, while pulling a package of orange and black crepe streamers from a shelf, "Could you answer my question now?"

"Oh. That." Neji pursed his lips, shuffling through a box of things, while Gaara stood off to the side. "Could we talk about this later?"

"By later, do you mean later, or not in public?" Gaara asked, and Neji let out a bit of breath, bringing himself to stand.

"Not in public."

"Alright."

Neji looked to Gaara as they started walking, almost surprised. "Really? You're not-"

"We all have things we'd… rather not have most people hear," the red-head answered, and Neji gave an appreciative nod. Construction paper and streamers in hand, they headed back to the gym.

o

"I can't believe tommorow is Hallowe'en!" Temari said excitedly, shuffling through the cupboard.

Kankurou snorted. "Then you must have a pretty small brain."

"You know what I mean," his sister responded, stuffing a muffin in her mouth before heading out of the kitchen. Kankurou finished loading the dishwasher, glancing at the clock. It was about seven o clock, and Gaara's dance started at seven fifteen. That meant just Kankurou and Temari were going to be in the house for the evening, since Mariko had left a few hours earlier to help out her relatives again.

Gaara sat in his room, staring at the ceiling. By his side lay his mother's book, the scarlet ribbon placed about three quarters through. Always, his thoughts found a way of drifting to that, and to Neji. After the two periods of Math (decorating) they had had Home Economics, and Gaara never got a chance to have Neji tell him about why he was absent at lunch. The red-head was sure it was not anything too serious, since Neji did seem alright, if a little nervous. But it wasn't nothing either.

Whatever it was, Gaara felt himself wanting to know.

"Gaara?"

He looked to the door, where Temari peeked in. At his nod she entered.

"Aren't you going to get dressed up for the dance?" she asked, "It starts soon."

He blinked, then shrugged. He had been planning on just wearing his regular clothing, and not bothering with the costume thing at all. But something in Temari's face made him suddenly doubt that.

"I figured as much," she said, waltzing over to him and siting down beside him on the bed, "But you really should wear something Hallowe'en-ish."

"Why?"

"It's fun…?" she tried, but realized using this excuse on Gaara wouldn't work. Sighing, she decided to be blunt. "Can I dress you up anyways?"

"No."

"Alright." Temari laughed, watching Gaara's annoyed face. He had only gone out for Hallowe'en when she and Kankurou had gone, and he was always a ghost. That way, no one could see his face, and for one night Gaara could run around with the other kids, eat candy, and just _live_. But before the age of 10, he had stopped. Never had he even asked to go again. The answer to the question was obvious.

"Well, it's about time to go," she told him, and he nodded, pushing himself to sit. He and Temari headed out of the room, meeting Kankurou by the door. The older boy looked a little annoyed, eyes darting past Temari.

"I'll walk Gaara to the dance," he muttered, much to his sister's surprise. He snorted at her blank look. "I was gonna go for a walk anyways, jeeeeez."

Temari raised an eyebrow. "Oh really?"

"Yeah. Really." Kankurou grabbed his jacket, eyes scanning Gaara. "No costume?"

Gaara just glared.

o

Streaks of colour decorated the horizon, peeking over the silhouetted treeline, accented with tops of houses and a radio tower. The air was surprisingly cool, Neji found, as he stepped outside. Quickly he headed back in, deciding to wait in the foyer until they left. His mind felt worn, in fact, his whole body had a dull ache to it, as if it had grown tiresome of life in itself.

"Ne-Neji-niisan?"

He looked up to where Hinata stood in the doorway, something innocent and fragile about her as always. She wore no make-up, save a smudge of lipchap, since her lips always became dry with the colder weather, and her hair hung short, a little wet from her shower. White fabric hung off her body, clinging to the curves that had formed where before a child's body had been. It was gathered at the waist with a cord of gold, hanging in layers around her legs. She had made it herself, even the feathered wings on her back, which she'd made out of cardboard and faux feathers from a craft store.

"Are we going now?" she asked quietly, and he gave a slight nod. He himself had decided against wearing a costume, instead wearing just day clothing.

A head peeked in the doorway, grinning.

"Tou-san says be back before curfew," the smaller girl told him, giving a devilish grin. Hinata nodded, grabbing her bag, and she and her cousin headed out as Hanabi disappeared back into the hall.

_The most beautiful of angels are not the perfect ones._

Neji flinched a little as the thought appeared in his head. But it was true, wasn't it?

If angels existed, that was. But that seemed doubtful.

Do angels ever come down to Earth to get some help sorting out their own problems?

o

"I saw you were reading Mom's book."

Gaara turned cold eyes on his brother, face taking an expression Kankurou hated to see.

"It's not your fault, you know," the older told him, "It was Dad's. Dad killed her; he forced her to have you, and that's why she died. He just blamed it on you because he couldn't take it. The bastard."

"Hn."

"You still blame yourself…" Kankurou wanted to put a hand on his brother's shoulder, but it didn't seem all that great an idea. Gaara scared him sometimes, the way he became so violent. There was but one person Gaara hadn't been able to defend himself against, and that had been their father.

But he was dead.

Gaara chose not to answer, crossing his arms across his chest.

"We never blamed you… well, I'm lying. I used to, Gaara, but I don't anymore. But _how_ could it be your fault, you were just a kid?" Kankurou sped up a little, to walk in time with his brother, "'I'm lying'… what a reduntant statement."

"How so?"

"Well, if I really was lying, the statement would be true, thus it would not. But then I wouldn't be lying, faking the statement false, so I would be telling the truth. But then I would be lying. It's a paradox." Kankurou watched Gaara look a small bit puzzled, and continued, "It's just a problem that goes around and around in circles; there's no real end to it."

"Like… a carousel," Gaara said, and Kankurou nodded.

"Yeah, I guess," Kankurou gave a chuckle, "Makes my head hurt when I think about it."

They were near to the school, and already there were Jack-o-lanterns glowing on the porches all down the street, twilight settling in.

"So, you really aren't going with anyone?" Kankurou asked.

Gaara shook his head, yet gave a smart grin. "But I'm lying."

Wait… did Gaara just almost make a joke?

Kankurou chuckled, messing up Gaara's hair with his hand. "Suit yourself, pipsqueak."

As Kankurou walked away, Gaara heard people approach, and turned just in time to recognize Ino before she pounced on him.

"Gaaaraaaaaaa!" she yelled, "You came!"

Still getting over the fact Ino was clinging to him, he couldn't think of a reply. Just about everyone in the regular group was there, the only clear exception being Sasuke.

"Get off him, Ino," came Neji's voice, and Gaara felt himself being returned to sanity as Ino retreated. As she backed away, he surveyed her appearance; a scarlet and black dress, obvious sorceress's attire.

Neji sighed. "Well, Gaara's here. I think we can head in now."

The spirited members of the group ran towards the school, howling and shrieking. Neji took pace beside Gaara, reaching over quickly to tidy his hair. He touched the quickly-healing scrape on Gaara's forehead on his way to the vermillion strands, sending them back in an orderly direction.

"T-thanks," Gaara mumbled, and despite the chill that had settled, there were sparks within him, dancing through his veins. Through the bricks walls of the school he could hear catchy melody, the bass thumping in his chest like a second heartbeat. There was a natural rhythm that everything danced to, but everyone had their own individual song.

And sometimes, people sat down to listen for a while.

Sometimes; forever.

o

It was unnerving. Person next to person, a sea thick with bodies. Gaara's eyes hadn't yet adjusted completely to the dark, shadows darting and coloured light glimmering off and over people as they danced, or just stood, talking laughing, all in masquerade. He was careful not to get lost, following Neji over to the not too crowded spot their group had chosen as it's territory. They stood in a circle, close so that they could actually here eachother over the blaring speakers. Many people were singing along, as the song just happened to be 'Stacey's Mom'.

"Kiba's mom has got it goin' on!" Naruto sang loudly, to which Kiba smacked him over the head.

"Hey, shut up!"

Naruto just laughed harder, as did just about everyone else. Gaara personally found the song a little strange, but decided so were the people around him, so it didn't matter all that much. For instance, Naruto had taped a shredded cereal box to his front, and was carrying around a plastic knife, claiming to be a 'cereal killer'. Ah, holidays do bring out the worst of jokes, don't they?

"Nee, where Sasuke-kun!" Sakura asked loudly, tilting her floppy witch's hat so it didn't affect her vision. "Has anyone seen him!"

"I think I did…" TenTen mumbled, and Sakura squealed, as did Ino.

"Really?" the blonde sorceress's eyes grew sparkly, "Where!"

Shikamaru snorted. "Jeez, woman, is that _all_ you think about?"

Glaring, Ino elbowed him in the ribs. "Shut up, lazyass! _You_ didn't even bother to wear a costume!"

"I am wearing a costume," he said pointedly.

"Oh yeah?"

"I'm dressed as my non-existent twin brother who looks exactly like me."

"Hey, I think I see him!" Sakura yelled suddenly, jumping up to get a better view. Shikamaru's non-existent twin brother? Nope! Sasuke! Sakura began waving her arms madly. "Sasuke-kun! Over here!"

Indeed, heading towards them was Sasuke, sweeping his eyes over the group. Naruto looked away, faking a grin.

"I'm gonna go get a soda!" he announced to anyone that cared, heading quickly off in the direction of the snack table.

"It's not like he needs the caffiene or anything," Neji commented, stepping aside so that Sasuke could stand in the circle, the black-eyes boy looking a bit troubled. It went mostly unnoticed, as Ino immediately grabbed at his hand.

"You look like you need cheering up!" she exclaimed, "We should dance!"

He shook her off, muttering, "No thanks," obviously distracted.

"Say," Chouji piped up after swallowing a mouthful of potato chips, "Who won that bet anyways, huh Kiba?"

"Oh right!" Kiba, whose face was painted in the likeness of a dog's, pulled the notebook out of his pocket, flipping through it until he found his page.

"22."

"22!" TenTen nearly choked, but Sasuke gave a disgusted nod.

"22."

"Which means," Kiba continued, "Shino wins. Once again."

There was some appreciative clapping as Kiba handed Shino a few bills, as everyone had bet a few dollars. It wasn't surprising that the insect-lover won though, since he had an uncanny ability to win every bet they ever made with accuracy. There was a rumour going around that he used his ant-farm for divination purpouses.

Gaara glanced over at the restless Sasuke. 22. 22 people had asked Sasuke to the dance. Did that mean 22 people claimed to love Sasuke? Usually, the concept of love pertains to 2 people, unless you have a love triangle. Or…

"Unrequitement," Gaara murmured, and Neji glanced over at him.

"Did you say something?"

"Nothing important."

The music stopped abruptly, leaving Gaara feeling a bit lighter without the rumble of bass inside of him. A screech of feedback flooded the gymnasium, causing disruption to ripple, teens covering their hands with their ears as it grew louder, higher pitched before dying back into a quiet whine. Tsunade, the principal, walked out on stage wearing cat-woman get up. Fake nails and everything. The crowd was instantly silenced.

"First off, thank you all for showing up," she said, "I know we've had some complaints about our dances being 'boring'. But the dances aren't boring. It's you who's boring!"

Dead silence.

She sighed, signaling the DJ to start the music. "Just keep it clean people. Please? Happy Hallowe'en!"

(**AN**: My principal gives a 'school isn't boring, you are' speech at the begginning of every year.)

Again, too loud to be heard music was blasted, and movement erupted, limbs moving, swaying, wild yet all flowing. Like a machine, organized chaos, moving, breaking, fixing itself.

"Let's dance, Hinata!" Kiba took Hinata by the elbow and pulled her away to an open space. Her cheeks flushed bright red and she froze, barely able to speak.

"N-no, I-"

"Why not?" he laughed, "No one's watching. Besides, you're great at dancing!"

Still flushed, Hinata lightly began to move to the beat, white fabric swishing around her legs. Kiba smiled, urging her further, and soon she almost forgot about anyone who might be watching and danced, a smile pushing it's way onto her face.

"Go Hinata!" Sakura cheered. She laughed, and rushed out herself, not wanting to miss out on the fun. TenTen and Ino followed her, and Sasuke wandered off, looking distraught.

"Sakura-chan!"

Sakura turned around, eyes widening at the sight. "L-Lee?"

TenTen paused also, following Sakura's gaze. "Oh Gods…"

Standing in a class disco pose was Lee, and beside him Gai. Both wore tight pants and coloured shirts, as if they had just stepped out of a time-warp from the 70's.

"1, 2, 3!" Gai shouted and the routine started. Sakura resisted the urge to laugh as the two launched into a rather impressive coordinated dance. Finally, Lee danced his way over to her and held out a hand.

"I know you aren't here _with_ me," he said, "But would you like to dance anyways?"

Inner Sakura was torn between killing herself laughing and yelling 'Hell yeah!' and showing all the losers there what dance really was. But Sakura smiled politely, and slipped her hand into his.

"Sure, Lee."

Gai continued dancing on his own, stopping twice. Once to give Lee a thumbs up, the second time to yell at Kakashi, who was supervising the snack table.

"In your face, Kakashi! Let's see you pull off moves like this!"

Kakashi just sighed, knowing better than to respond.

Several songs passed, and Gaara had grown quiet after making conversation with Chouji and Shikamaru. Neji had disappeared for a small while, but came back, looking as if he had a slight head ache.

"I remember why I hate these things so much," he mumbled, leaning against the wall beside Gaara.

"Why don't you dance?" Gaara asked, and Neji laughed.

"I'm not very good. It's not my thing, and besides, I don't have anyone to dance with."

Gaara surveyed the group, some people taking breaks as they had grown tired. Sakura left Lee, who seemed as if he could dance until Thursday, and grabbed Neji's Coke from his hands, taking a swig.

"H-hey!" Neji protested, but Sakura wasn't listening.

"Aren't you going to dance, Gaara?" she asked the red-head, who looked greatly intimidated.

"No, I… I haven't ever danced before," he murmured, and Sakura took him by the shoulders.

"Then I'll teach you!" she said.

"No, really, I-"

But Sakura had already made up her mind, Neji looking on with a bit of a smile.

"Just listen to the music," she explained, "The beat. And move with it."

"Move with it?"

"Uh-huh," she began moving back and forth, moving her arms a little. Gaara was greatly unsure about immitating her.

"Don't teach him to dance like a girl!" Shikamaru yelled, to which Sakura stuck out her tongue.

"Don't worry about them," she commanded, "Just… dance!"

Unsure, Gaara began to sway a little, feeling ever so self-concious. He felt kind of silly, but it was fun, he had to admit. He had just gotten into it, when a look crossed Sakura's face, and she peered behind him. The red-head stopped as well, and she quickly apologized before heading over to where a small crowd had formed around two people.

"Sasuke-kun?"

o

Naruto found himself backed into a corner. It wasn't a corner though, not really. It was just a wall. But standing a few metres away was Sasuke, black eyes glaring. He gulped as the taller boy took a step closer.

"You've been avoiding me. All day." Sasuke said forcefully, and Naruto began to look at the floor.

"Yeah, I-"

"Naruto," he sighed, "Are you ashamed to be seen with me?"

"No!" the blonde protested, "I just… damn. Look, I wasn't sure if you…"

By this time a slight crowd had formed, soft voices spreading rumours. Was a fight going to break out? No one really wanted to see any other possibilities.

"Sorry," Naruto mumbled, turning to face Sasuke, "Kay?"

Sasuke put a hand on Naruto's shoulder, the connection jolting Naruto. "Yeah."

"Sasuke-kun!" Sakura pushed through the crowd, green eyes widening as she saw Naruto's lips meet Sasuke's. Everyone froze. But the two boys didn't care, ignoring the mutters of 'faggot', and 'queer' that could loudly be heard. The majority of the crowd dispersed, and Sakura just stared. Sasuke had always been her dream, her goal.

But to be taken… by Naruto…

_He was never mine in the first place_, she thought, backing away. It hurt, deep in her chest, she wouldn't deny that. She felt tears cloud her vision, hot and salty, as she rushed away to the washroom.

_Unrequited_.

Gaara glanced from Naruto and Sasuke, now talking quietly, to Sakura whose silhouette disappeared through the doors. She looked so upset… Is that what love did to people? But Naruto and Sasuke looked happy. But still…

"Damn fags!" came a growl as someone passed them, and Gaara's eyes narrowed.

Is it ever _wrong_ to love?

Neji traced his hand lightly over patterns in the wall, thoughts rather similiar.

o

Sakura splashed water onto her face, not caring that her make-up was smudging over her face. She heard the door swing open and quickly zipped up her purse, not wanting to be seen in such a state.

"Hey."

Ino stood next to her, and they met eyes in the mirror. "I thought you'd be here."

"Yeah, I was just-"

Ino leaned over, resting her forehead on Sakura's shoulder. "Guess we lost, then."

"Ino…"

"I never would've guessed Sasuke-kun to be a fag," Ino muttered bitterly, and Sakura flinched. In the pale flourescent light, a sorceress and a witch consoled eachother, both indescisive about what to do.

"Don't say that," the pink-haired girl said sharply, and Ino shut her eyes tight. It _hurt_.

"Sour grapes, huh?" she whispered before pulling away.

"Sour grapes," Sakura agreed, wiping the dark smudges from her face. "I should go. I left in the middle of Gaara's dance lesson."

Ino nodded, leaning over the sink. She'd read about it before, in novels. Before you get your happy ending, you have to go though trials. But then, they promised everything would be okay. Such a silly little girl she'd been. They never said it would be easy.

(AN: 'Sour grapes' refers to a fable by Aesop, about a fox who was trying to get some grapes, but she couldn't reach them. So she walked away angry, saying 'I bet those grapes were sour, anyways'.)

o

The dance was coming to a close. Everyone was nearly burned out, but thoroughly enjoying themselves. Sakura had even convinced Neji to try dancing, but just for one song. The long-haired boy seemed more content watching Gaara, who with Sakura's help, was actually getting into it, though Neji did feel a little bothered when Sakura got close to Gaara. Some people had already left, and Gaara knew Sakura was trying not to look over to where Naruto and Sasuke stood, talking to TenTen, who didn't have a problem with it at all, and she felt a little guilty for not being so accepting. Gaara didn't know how to console her though, and the topic was avoided entirely.

"Omigosh!" she exclaimed suddenly, "It's the YMCA!"

Soon, everyone (including Neji, who had been dragged) was moving there arms to the letters. Gaara looked to the white-eyed boy, who shrugged as if to say 'Might as well'.

The current pulled them in, and both had to admit, it was exhilerating to be a part of the machine, the dance. The song ended, and another started. _Stairway to Heaven_, by Led Zepplin, which marked the end of the evening. Hearing it, Iruka smirked.

"Are they playing this at the end again?" he mumbled, mostly to himself, "I feel old hearing it."

(AN: Way back when this music came out, they played it at the end of a dance. They've started doing it again, with the popularity increase of the bands.)

Couples took the floor in slow dance, and anyone without a partner moved off the side. Naruto and Sasuke awkwardly came to together, dancing off to the side. The evening had been great, yet harsh, and both knew what Monday would bring.

Gaara watched the couples, hands on shoulders and waists. People outwardly expressing love, or like.

"Hey," Neji said quietly in his ear, "Do you want to go before there's a crowd trying to get out?"

Gaara nodded, feeling a little drowsy. After saying some good-byes, he and Neji made their way out of the school, and into the cool night air. Streetlights flooded the corners with pale light, lighting a trail off into the distance.

"You look pretty tired," the white-eyed boy commented, and Gaara nodded, trudging along.

"Yeah," he smiled a little, "But I'm glad I came."

"Me too." Neji agreed. When they came to where Neji should've turned, Gaara became a little suspicious.

"You're house is in the other direction," he mumbled.

"I don't have to be home for a while yet," Neji explained, "And Hinata's going to a sleepover at Sakura's, or someone's. I can't remember. Do you mind if I walk you home?"

Gaara shook his head, finding it strange of Neji to ask his permission. Why wouldn't he want him to? Around Neji, he felt comfortable, and open. These emotions swirled in his head, making it feel only heavier with sleepiness.

"I guess you were right about Naruto and Sasuke," Neji commented, watching a squirrel scamper across a frosted lawn. "I don't think anyone else saw it coming."

His face softened as he continued. "I feel bad for Sakura, though. And Ino. They were pretty silly about things, but still…"

"Unrequitement."

"It must hurt," Neji mused softly, "To care for someone like that, when they don't feel the same way."

Only their footsteps sounded, as each found themselves wondering what those words really meant. Gaara's thoughts were disorderly,and he felt like he was forgetting something, something that had been important to him. He wasn't able to catch hold of it though, as they came across the small bungalow he lived in. He stopped in the driveway, turning to Neji.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

Neji gave a little shrug, his face a pensive mask of chiaroscuro. "It was… the least I could do."

There was a small pause, and then it came to find, flashing and obvious like a neon sign. Gaara stepped forwards, looking concerned. "I had forgotten… we were going to talk about something."

"You should get some sleep," Neji told him, "We can talk some other time."

"No, I-"

Gaara winced as the front light came on and Temari opened the door, dressed in a hat and scarf.

"Hey Gaara!" she yelled, "Gaara's friend!"

Giddy, she ran down the steps, twirling and looking at the sky. "It's snowing!"

"Snow?" Neji looked up, as did Gaara, and sure enough, small flakes were falling from the clouded sky. Gaara felt a few land on his face, blinking as one went into his eye.

"The first snow!" Temari exclaimed, "Come on, Kankurou, don't be a wimp!"

Kankurou shuffled out of the house, looking annoyed. "It's just snow Temari! Oh, hey, Gaara's back."

Gaara put out his hand, watching as the flakes dissolved into small droplets of water. Just like that, they were gone.

"I should get going," Neji said, shivering, "I'll talk to you later, alright?"

"Kay," Gaara replied, "Bye."

"Bye."

Gaara watched Neji's form receed, the wind picking up a little, like a blurry white wave carrying him away. The red-head stared at the wetness in his hand, liquified by his warmth, and hoped that not everything could be as easily destroyed as snowflakes.

End of Chapter 11


	12. Emergency Exits for Angels Without Wings

_**Carousel**_

Chapter 12: Emergency Exits for Angels Without Wings

Alternate Titles - _Susurrus, _or _Skimmed_

**Disclaimer**: Same as always.

Gaara rolled over, a sheet twisted around half his body. Sunlight cascaded through the window, alighting his arm and a small bit of his face, warmth coating him, almost like honey. He was in a state between dream and conciousness, flickering back and forth. Memory mixed with fantasy in his head, and he couldn't tell the difference between the two for a while, but there were constants, figures that had appeared on both sides. Finally, letting out a quiet groan, he opened his eyes, wincing against the morning light. Well, technically it was afternoon.

Gaara lay there for a while, trying to convince his eyes to stay open. Finally, he was able to sit, pressing a hand to his forehead. The feeling of a dream forgotten was evident, as he stumbled to his feet. Vaguely he wanted to remember it, but couldn't quite concentrate, as he pulled a sweatshirt over his head and headed into the hall. Ignored were the snores coming from the bed across the room.

Fifteen minutes later, showered and now aware, he made his way into the kitchen, hair going in all different directions, as he had only bothered to towel it. He found Temari in the kitchen, doing up her running shoes.

"Morning," she greeted him, stretching a little. He gave her a slight nod, shuffling through the cupboards. His eye caught the clock on the microwave, eyes widening. 12:32 already?

"I'm going for a run," she informed him, "Kankurou's still asleep, and I really doubt he'll wake up for another hour. I swear, that guy could sleep all weekend if he didn't need to eat."

Gaara poured himself a bowl of cereal, agreeing to himself. Temari strutted over, grabbing her water bottle off the counter.

"Oh, that's right, I never got a chance to ask you how the dance went." The ice clinked against the sides of the bottle as she took a drink. "Well?"

"Was fine."

"Who was your friend?" Temari pressed further.

Gaara swallowed a large spoonful of cereal, then responded, "Neji."

In romance stories, there is often a mention of how one says the name of a person they care for. And maybe this is a romance story, because the name had a taste in Gaara's mouth (and it wasn't just his Special K). How it came off his tongue, passing smoothly over his lips. It was pleasant.

"He seems alright." Temari leaned against the counter, her leave prolonged. "You guys doing anything tonight?"

He turned to stare at her, a little perplexed. She laughed in response.

"I mean for Hallowe'en, tonight. I guess you guys are a bit too old for trick or treating, eh?"

"We haven't… planned anything," Gaara answered her previous question. For a second, he had thought she meant… an obvious something else. A date. He knew people his age went on them, to the movies or where ever. But it did seem rather trivial, since relationships didn't last very long at that time of your life, and almost always ended in a blown out of proportion fight. Was the pain really worth it?

"Later, I'm going to go into town later this afternoon, to rent us some horror movies," she said, heading for the door. "We can have a marathon, you, Kankurou and I. Oh, Neji can come too, if you want."

Gaara nodded, watching her head out the door in light jog, golden pig-tails bouncing up and down with her stride. The snow from the night before had melted, but on the grass still was frost.

No matter how many times spring comes, and all of it melts away, it will always come back in autumn, with the banishing of the warmth.

o

Saturdays are ever so strange. No matter how little time you spend doing something, they seem to speed past you. So Gaara found, walking along the street on the way to the park. He stared at the rough concrete as it passed under him, but his thoughts were far from there. Just a small time earlier, he'd finished the book of poetry, lines re-reading themselves aloud in his head. Certain things stuck out, much he did not quite grasp.

But some of it was almost familiar.

Grey clouds drifted slowly through the sky, as Gaara walked down the street. The porches were illuminated with jack-o'-lanterns as well as normal lights, decorated in a manner that might prove scary to a five year old. It was a little after 4:30, and the round orange sun had not nearly set, though a faint shadow of the yellowed moon could be seen if you searched the sky. The air seemed alive. No, that is not the word to use, for it was filled with the spirits of the dead. The streets were still, save a few cars that had driven past, and few people Gaara had seen, heading out to parties, or back home for the night.

The playground approached, leaves piled at the bottom of the slide, raked into a pile by children earlier that afternoon to jump into. Gaara's eyes found a familiar person, and he heard himself call out.

"Neji!"

The dark-haired boy turned back, his expression changing minutely as he saw Gaara, though still rather melancholy.

"Hey!" he yelled in greeting, nodding. Gaara picked up his pace, and Neji waited, kicking at the dried leaves on the ground. They crackled at the touch, shuffling against one another.

"What are you doing out?" Neji asked quietly, and Gaara caught the sadness he was trying to hide in the taller boy's face.

"Just walking." He gave an exaggerated look at Neji's bag. "You?"

"I was heading to the graveyard." Neji motioned to the pathway through the forest that ran behind the houses. "This is a short cut."

"Graveyard?"

"Don't worry, I'm not in a cult or anything," Neji explained, gesturing to his all-black attire, though not what you could call Gothic. "It's Samhain today. Some religions say that the veil between this world and the next is thinnest tonight. I'm not sure if I believe it but… I have some respects to pay."

"I see." Gaara watched Neji's far-away expression, unsure whether he should ask further, or continue where they had left off the night before.

"You can come," Neji spoke up, "I won't be all that long and… we can talk after."

He gave Gaara a reassuring, but horribley pained smile, and they began down the path, the leaves above them shimmering aurin and marigold, hints of bloody red; as if stained glass. A tinted warping of truth.

o

Supermarkets always have a smell. It comes with the atmosphere, slightly chilling, causing goosebumps to ripple up and down your arms. The icy metal of your grocery cart. Truly, it seemed to be the scent of cold vegetables, lined up along the wall. Pale flourescent light covered them, small drops of water still on the quivering leaves, as if they had been sweating. No matter where you were in the store, the smell was present, even if you were in some other unrelated section. Which in Temari's case, was an aisle filled mostly with Hallowe'en treats of all assortment. The amount of chocolate there was almost sickening.

Eyes scanning the price tags, she reached up to a bag, her hand colliding with that of someone else's. Looking to her left, she raised an eyebrow in greeting.

"Hi, Shikamaru," she said with a hint of a threat in her voice, snatching the bag, and dropping it into her cart with a competitive look. He sighed, and took the bag next to it.

"Hey, Temari." he sighed, looking rather exhausted.

"You look kinda dead," she commented, placing one hand on her hip.

"Thank you," he rolled his eyes. "Hallowe'en is such a bothersome holiday."

"Oh?"

He motioned to the treats in his basket. "My mother is making me do the shopping. But really, it's quite pointless. I have to stand by my door and hand out this crap to kids in costume all night. For free."

Temari held back a laugh. "Well, I guess your night _will_ suck."

"You're so blunt," Shikamaru snorted.

"So? You're lazy," she retorted. "And weird."

"Weird as opposed to being normal?" he questioned.

"Well, no," Temari mused, leaning against the handle bars of her cart, "Just weird."

Shikamaru gave her a look, as she pulled a crinkled piece of paper from her pocket, and went over the list twice, making sure she had everything. It wasn't much, just some chocolate, some chips, and some soda.

"Well, I'm done here," she said, stuffing the list back into her pocket and facing Shikamaru.

"Same," he commented, begginning towards the check out. She walked along side him, the wheels of the cart squeaking every few moments as they completed another turn. Much to both teen's annoyment, there were rather long lines of people who also had stumbled across the brilliant idea of last minute shopping. Temari settled into the one closest to her, and Shikamaru followed, eyes flitting over the magazines set above the gum.

"Don't be a pervert," she snapped, glancing at the not-so-child-appropriate covers. It seemed you could get away with anything these days, the girl on the ciover of Cosmopolitan wearing not much more than a bikini, not to mention the 'How to achieve a better orgasm' plastered in neon orange letters over the cover.

Blushing a little Shikamaru jerked his head away. "I wasn't leering, I was browsing."

"Five seconds is browsing. Any longer is leering."

"It hadn't been five seconds!" he protested.

"I guess I stopped you just in time then," Temari said snarkily. "It's disgusting, really, what's been done to the image of women in the media."

"True. But it's not like you can do much about it." Shikamaru rested back against the magazine stand, oblivious to Temari's growing wrath.

"That's just the sort of attitude that makes things worse!" the blonde girl yelled, clenching her fists. "Just leaving something and hoping it will go away won't make it any better, in fact, it'll just get worse! It's still there whether you want it to be or not, and it will grow unless you do something about it! Sitting back on your ass and doing nothing is probably the worst approach; it's like waiting for a damn apocalypse!"

Shikamaru pointed at her, eyes half-opened, and she shut her mouth, still fuming.

"Sometimes," he told her, "Blindly taking action can have even worse consequence than can ignoring the problem. Besides, life is for living; we should make the best of it."

Temari pursed her lips, attempting to control her temper. She piled her few items onto the counter, and an elderly woman began ringing them through. She glanced from Shikamaru to Temari with a goofy smile, and the tension between them was distracted.

"You two spending your Hallowe'en together then?" she asked cheerily, "My Johnny and I, we used to get so loaded on chocolate. What is it you youngsters do these days for kicks anyways? Oh, that's $11.49, dear."

Temari handed the woman a ten and some change, her eyes open in confusion. "Excuse me? What was it you said first?"

"Hm?" The woman handed a few coins back to Temari. "I was talking about you two lovebirds-"

"Hold on a second!" Temari interjected, and Shikamaru gave a perterbed nod.

"We aren't like, a couple or anything!" the blonde continued, flustered, "I just met him over a week ago!"

"Oh really?" the cashier chuckled, "My mistake, sorry. But if you don't mind me saying, you two would look quite cute together!"

"I think I do mind," Shikamaru muttered, putting his few items onto the counter. Temari took her bags, sliding them down to her elbows so she could shove the receipt and coins into her purse. She sucked in breath as this required some use of her left hand, the cut on it covered in an itchy scab, but still painful. The stitches had been taken out a few days before, and it would still be a few weks before it was fully healed.

"It's almost funny," she commented as Shikamaru finished, the old cashier waving them off. "The same thing kind of happened to my brother and I this morning."

"Someone thought you were _with_ your brother?"

"No," Temari scoffed, "I asked him if he and his friend had any plans for tonight, and it sorta sounded like-"

"You were asking if they had a date?" Shikamaru finished, and Temari nodded. "Actually, that is funny. I would've liked to have seen Gaara's face."

The automatic doors opened with an electric hum, cold air sweeping over the two. A car raced past, and a group of college-aged teens walked by, laughing for no apparent reason.

"I'm off to the movie place," Temari mentioned. "Know any good horror flicks?"

"I'm not too big a fan," he told her, shrugging, "It's mostly crap these days. _The Exorcist_, though, that's a classic."

"So I've heard." She brushed back some loose strands that had blown into her face, zipping up her jacket. "Well, see you later, I guess."

"Yeah," Shikamaru nodded. "I should get home before my mom decides to come kick my ass for stalling."

Temari gave a short laugh, waving a little as she began on her way. The clouds on the horizon behind her moved swiftly through the sky, their brightness turning her into a silhouette as she walked off.

o

The graveyard was surrounded by an onyx fence, the bars not all that thick, but sturdy. The gate had elaborate designs etched into it, though there was no lock, so the public was free to come and go as they pleased. Still, it almost seemed like the windows of a jail, one designed to keep the dead in the ground, where they can't interfere with the living. The pain is enough; those who have lost do not need constant reminders coming back to further destroy them. The past is the past, and what happens happens. Still, sometimes things slip through the bars, and drift harmlessly through the air until they find you; be they dead or not.

Gaara ran his finger along the top of the fence, waiting on the inside of the gate. He didn't feel alone in the least, but it wasn't threatening, the feeling, as if zombies were about to jump out of the ground and strangle him. Just that something else was there. Neji had gone up the path, and he was barely visible to Gaara, half blocked out by the full branches of one of the trees playing guardian.

The redhead let his mind wander, fingernails peeling at the chipped paint on the gate. A little anxious, he took to trying to clear his head, but as the seconds danced themselves away, so quickly it was hard to be sure they were there. But aren't seconds just a way of measuring time? Time itself is one endless mass. Or perhaps it's not endless, but no one actually knows. Maybe no one is supposed to know.

Gaara felt a tap on his shoulder and turned around to see Neji, standing with his hands in his pockets. Around his eyes were obvious red circles, streaking down his face.

"Sorry to have kept you waiting," he said quietly, turning his face away. "We can go now."

He passed Gaara, heading though the gate. Gaara followed him quickly, concerned.

"Are you alright?"

"Don't worry about me," Neji said, though his voice sounded pressed. Gaara couldn't take the secrecy any longer, catching Neji's shoulder with one of his hands. Neji paused, but stopped altogether when he felt Gaara pull him back, the shorter boy's arms wrapping around him. Gaara clasped his hands around Neji's midsection, resting his forehead against the back of Neji's neck, covered in fine dark tresses. Neji winced, but didn't have the heart to struggle.

"Neji," the redhead mumbled, "I trust you. And… you helped me. Now I want to help you. To have you trust me. Please, stop hiding whatever this is from me."

Neji stayed quiet a few moments, feeling Gaara's warmth near, next to him. Tears pushed there ways to the edge of his eyes, so he squeezed them shut, though some still leaked through the dark lashes. He swallowed, feeling Gaara's chest rise in breath against him. They were just outside of the gate, which creaked slightly in the wind, shutting itself.

"A-alright," Neji stuttered, adjusting his grop on the backpack he held in one hand.

"Does this," Gaara asked quietly, "Have anything to do with what happened Friday?"

"Sort of. Not really," Neji tried to explain. "Well, I guess it does. Can we… let's go to the playground."

Gaara took a deep breath, reluctantly disconnecting his hands so that Neji wasn't pressed so tightly to him. They walked close together, the space between them begging to stop existing. They quickly came across the path trough the forest, the fading light casting spotty shadows over them, the leaves singing, welcoming them once again. Neji glared at the earth, trying to work out ewxcatly what would be said. There were a few empty and old looking benches by the playground, they settled on one. Gaara placed one hand over Neji's resting on the wood between them, and waited for the boy to begin. And after a minute or so, Neji looked up, and words found their way to his mouth.

"I guess you…" he started, "You already know that I live with my uncle, and my cousins."

Gaara nodded, pained. It was strange to him. How seeing Neji's face, and knowing that Neji was hiding it from him hurt him. Inside, it burned him. Before they started being friends, they'd known eachother existed, but somehow they'd picked up up, and found it to be something more than just meeting eyes every now and then.

"My father," Neji continued, bitterly, "Died because of them. Nine years. It was about nine years ago. We always mourn on the date, but… I guess I thought… maybe today, he would be a little closer to me."

His milky eyes wandered over the empty jungle gym, brightly painted metal. Some child had put stickers on the swing set, and the few left on sparkled dimly. Since it was without children, it was a little eerie. Just a little. Neji gave up on distracting himself, and went on.

"My uncle, Hiashi, and my father, were twins. But, as destiny would have it, my uncle was older, by just a few minutes. So the family company was passed down to him. He was the President, the one who got the credit. My father worked hard, but stayed at Vice President. I never remember him being bitter about itm though. He took it as it was." Neji bowed his head, eyebrows furrowing. "Hinata and I were raised from an earely age to be smart; to be able to take over the company. Someday, she'll be the President. Because she is my uncle's daughter. Not because she earned it. But because that's the way destiny made things."

"Some activists were angry with the company. Hiashi tried reasoning with them, and they seemed to come to a truce. But instead, their representative decided to kidnap my dear cousin. He was killed, though, before he could get away, and precious Hinata was saved. But this just made the group angrier than before. It was dangerous; they had guns, and were threatening us with terrorism. Nonetheless, my father was sent to go in Hiashi's place and speak with them. _To speak with them_."

More tears fell from Neji's face, splashing onto the ground, and onto the bench. Gaara held his hand only tighter, moving in a little closer.

"They fucking killed my father. They thought he was Hiashi, and they fucking killed him! They knew how dangerous it was, but they sent him anyways!"

Neji broke into a sob, leaning forward to Gaara. He rested his temple on Gaara's shoulder, squeezing Gaara's hand back. The knowing that his friend was there anchored him, gave him a little more sanity. He felt bad for his tears, but couldn't help them.

"I-I've been trying," Neji continued in broken speech, "To become enough that my _family… _might acknowledge it. But there's really no p-point, is there? Things will stay the way they are; I can't change destiny. I can't change things like that!"

Gaara felt the material of his sleeve become wet with the brackish liquid, and reached his other hand over to brush Neji's hair from his face so it didn't become soaked. To try and wipe some of the tears away. He used his thumb, gently running it over Neji's cheek. The tears were warm, bitter. The emotion was so strong…

"It got worse," Neji mumbled, letting Gaara continue to dry his tears, "As time went by, it only got worse inside of me. I tried harder, but it never quite meant anything. My photographs; they mean something to me and you mean something to me, Gaara, but that's it. Before now, there was nothing, and sometimes I would just hate myself. I wanted out, away, and I knew it was impossible, but I wanted just some way to escape destiny so badly, even for a little bit!"

He bit his lip, tasting a little bit of blood.

"Please don't hate me, Gaara. Please don't hate me."

"Why would I hate you?" the redhead asked, wrapping the hand previously drying tears around Neji's neck, but the brunette pulled away a little, reaching for his bag. After rifling through it, he winced deeply, then produced a plastic bag filled with fine white powder.

"This would be how it connects to Friday. I bought this then, didn't use it yet," Neji explained quietly, quickly shoving the powder back into his bag. "I'm pathetic."

"You're not…" Gaara whispered, bringing Neji closer. The white-eyed boy put up no struggle, leaning against Gaara.

"I'm not some addict," Neji managed. "It's just the herion. It was pot first. I tried acid this summer, just once, but I had a bad trip. I don't want that again. And it's not everyday, not even once a week. Just sometimes, I'll need it. But things are getting better, they really are, but I guess… maybe I'm in a little deep."

"Neji…"

Again, Gaara found him self embracing Neji, he himself on the vege of tears. It hurt to see Neji hurting. And how could he hate Neji at all? Gaara had hated his father, and had greatly disliked other people, but Neji was so unlike them. Neji was… He wasn't sure what Neji was, but it was different, and he liked it.

"I don't hate you," Gaara murmured to him, "I don't hate you."

He held him a while longer, until Neji's weeping had subsided, and he sat upright, Gaara's hand still over his like a protective blanket. Side by side they were for a while, and neither spoke, the smell of autumn dancing around them. Dusk was theatening to come soon, and children would be out and about in masquerade.

"I'm sorry," came Neji's susurration, but Gaara shook his head.

"I wanted to know. To help, if I can."

"You've done more than enough…" Neji told him, rubbing a little at his face.

"But I… I don't want you to be hurting yourself…" Gaara continued, "I'll help you with that. I don't want you to hurt. I… _care_ about you…"

"Thank you," Neji said, feeling his hand tingle where Gaara's still rested over it. "Things where I live are really tough these days and… Thank you."

Both had the feeling they'd only touched the surface; the tip of the iceberg, if you will. And the icy water was just waiting, inviting them to take the plunge. Another deafness came, wherein they both took time to settle into the knowing, and how close they had been.

"Are you doing anything tonight?" Gaara asked suddenly, the words a little rushed. "If you're not, you could come to my house. We're just watching movies, and… sorry. You probably don't want to come. Not tonight."

"Actually," the brunette said, "I would. Would your caretaker mind?"

"She's out of town for a while, but Temari already told me you, or someone, could come." Gaara answered.

Neji slung his bag over his shoulder. He felt a little dazed, but better. It had all come out, and Gaara was still there. He had someone. Ignoring thoughts of his previous escape plans of that night, he began wading with Gaara through the leaves. The rest of it; what happened with his father, all that, couldn't so easily fade. But the past was the past. He wasn't about to forget, but…

"So," he asked quietly, "Any progress on the quest?"

Gaara looked puzzled a second, then gave a little bit of a smile. "Actually, yes. There has been."

End of Chapter 12


	13. Insomnatic Lullabies

_**Carousel**_

Chapter 13: Insomnatic Lullabies

**AN:** No update last week due to emotional things, really sorry. There probably won't be one next week either. The second last scene was originally a little experiment, but I ended up liking it so it stayed.

No review responses, my parents are kicking me off.

**Warning (please read):** Obviously, there will be drug usage in this story, but as long as the rating is still T, you can figure the extent of the content.

**Disclaimer:** Fanfiction is just me fucking with the characters to satisfy urges of my sick mind. Cause doing that in real life is probably illegal.

Children have an innocence about them. Wide-eyed and eager, they venture into the world without fear. When they fall down, they get back up. Everything is interesting, and little things are important. But you lose this innocence, sooner or later. You stop wanting to try everything, and stop getting back up when you fall down. You have hateful opinions, things become right and wrong based on your small concept of them.

Your innocence can so easily be manipulated, or tainted. If the environment a child is placed into is harsh against them, teaching them hate and fear, then their purity quickly dies, and the child's soul can become bitter.

Saving is never beyond them, though. They just have to want it.

o

Pretty soon, the streets would be darkened, and filled with children going from door to door for candy. But at that point, it was simply Neji and Gaara, walking next to one another down the sidewalk. The redhead looked to his friend a few times, contemplating reaching over and holding his hand or something, for comfort purpouses (or so he told himself). Neji caught his eye and Gaara blushed a little, lips parting for speech.

"Don't worry," Neji told him, and Gaara looked down.

"I have every right to worry."

The long-haired boy sighed, pulling his coat tighter around him. Truth is, he knew Gaara was right. He _should_ worry. What he had told Gaara was not quite the complete truth, but he didn't want to draw the other boy too far in, into the inky pool where he was slowly drowning. The surface kept getting farther and farther away, and the sharp flashes of pain in his lungs grew stronger and more desperate. Though he knew how to ignore it, he could only go for so long without giving in. And he didn't want Gaara to sink with him.

Gaara had given him a chance of sorts, an option. Sometimes, you can feel addicted to your own misery, want to coat yourself with it, and feel the pain eat away at your heart. You can get in too deep, and trying to get out is hard. But the chance looked worth it, and he did want it. Strangely, it seemed important, one of those small, beautiful things that you find and put in your pockets, wanting to scream and show the world but you know they won't listen.

"This one, right?" Neji asked, motioning to the house coming up. Gaara nodded, anxiety building inside him. It was the first time he had ever had a friend home. It was the first time, really, anyone had wanted to be that good of friends with him. He swallowed to wet his throat, dry from nervousness.

"It looks different in the daytime," Neji commented, as the headed up to the door. Gaara quickly stepped ahead, opening the door for Neji. Heat billowed out at them, clashing with the cool air outside, and Gaara took a quick look at the melting sky before following Neji inside.

o

"How did I look, Hinata?" Hanabi spun twice, holding out her arms. She wore a black cape, her face powdered white except for blood-red lips; unmistakeably a vampire.

Her older sister smiled gently. "Very pretty."

"It's too bad Tou-san isn't here to see," the younger girl complained. "When you manage the company, you won't be away that much, right?"

"I…I don't know," Hinata murmured, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. Again, she wore her angel costume, Hanabi's treat bag in hand. Though she herself wasn't going to be getting candy, she felt obliged to watch over Hanabi, to prove her responsibility and worth.

Suddenly the phone rang, and Hinata picked it up calmly from the endtable next to her.

"H-hello?"

"Hinata-san. This is Neji," came the gruff voice at the other end. "I'm at Gaara's, so I'm not coming home tonight."

"Oh. That's n-nice." Her voice was more unsure than usual; disheartened.

Neji sighed. "You're still upset about him, aren't you?"

"W-who?"

A pause.

"Naruto…and Sasuke."

Hinata stiffened, and though Neji wasn't there to see it, he could predict her nervous movements, fingers always twitching and playing with eachother.

"Only a little," she said politely, "But…thank you. I'll s-see you tommorow then."

"Bye."

"Oh, N-Neji-san?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry."

Empty and lifeless dial tone.

o

Childish laughter could be heard outside, as Kankurou settled on the couch beside Gaara and Neji. After dinner they had gone to the living room, a bowl full of candy placed on the porch for any trick-or-treaters that came by.

"You like horror movies?" the eldest boy asked Neji, who shrugged. Kankurou then looked to Gaara. "Don't blame me if you get scared, pipsqueak!"

Gaara maintained an expressionless face, while Neji leaned forwards to rest his chin in his hands, watching the two brothers. It was interesting: the interaction, and the hidden emotion there. Family should be attached, and though bonds can be broken, they never really detach…

"Alright," Temari said, coming into the room with a few DVD's and a bag of snacks in hand. "We can start."

"What did you get?" Neji asked, eyes catching sight of the healing wound on her hand. He looked away, then unconciously leaned a little towards Gaara.

"_Ju On_, some gorey horror flick my friend reccomended, and _The Exorcist_," she answered, popping a disc into the player.

Gaara settled back onto the couch cushion, taking a sip from his soda. The night had been unfolding well, actually. Neji hadn't found his siblings exceedingly weird, nor did he seem to be bored at all. Though the two had spent a lot of time together, during school, or talking by the playground, this was a new step, untouched ground. And though he was anxious, shaky, Gaara was most definitely enjoying it, pushing that warmth just a little further. It had him curiously entranced, as he came closer to grasping it.

(we keep spinning, gaining speed, a little faster... )

o

2:03 read the day-glo numbers, a harsh and unnatural light against the darkness. Gaara pulled a baggy T-shirt over his head before falling back on his bed. His limbs were heavy, and so were his sticky eyelids, begging to close. A knock came on the door and he startled.

"Oh. Come in." he murmured, sitting up. Neji entered, adorned in sleep-pants of Kankurou's Gaara had given him to wear, and a T-shirt of Gaara's. The white-eyed boy leaned on the door, hearing it click shut. Out in the living room, Kankurou snored where he was sprawled over the couch, Temari also asleep where she had curled up in her chair. A blaring silence overtook the house, made all the more creepy by the string of frightening images places in their heads by the films. Monsters, ghosts, vampires… those things don't exist. It's that which lurks inside of people that you should be afraid of.

Gaara glanced to his older brother's bed, covered in clothing and other things. "Guess you can't sleep there then. You have my bed, I'll sleep on the floor."

"It's alright," Neji replied, "I won't take up much space. We can share."

"Really, I don't mind-"

"No," he insisted, "You are not going to sleep on the floor."

Not wanting to argue such a trivial issue further, Gaara quieted, withdrawing in the physical so his knees were pressed to his chest, back against the wall. Thoughts pounded him hard inside, voices that came from the dead, echoing, echoing. Each words was another step in a downward spiral that just kept going and going, not wanting to stop. His heart shuddered and screamed angrily at him, pushing him down, pushing ice-water into his lungs. Drowning, drowning. Something always goes wrong.

"I'm sorry," he said faintly, bowing his head so it was hard to see his face. "I'm making it worse, aren't I?"

"I don't… Make what worse?"

"Everything you're going through. I'm just bringing you down further…"

Neji's face nearly collapsed, his eyes staring painfully at Gaara.

"No…" he choked out, taking hastened steps over to the bed. The matress sank down with his weight as he placed his hands against the tangled white sheets, pulling himself over to Gaara. The jagged shadows on his face only deepened the concern visible, as he leaned in closer to Gaara, who kept his eyes down, breath thin and controlled.

"Gaara, look at me…" Neji murmured, and Gaara glanced upwards just a bit, guiltily.

"Are you going to listen to me?" Neji asked him.

"Yes."

Neji gave a nod, bringing his knees under himself so he could sit more comfortabley. "Please don't think that. This whole thing started before I even knew you. You shouldn't recieve any blame. It's my fault, alright?"

"But…" Gaara protested, "I'm contributing now."

"No you aren't!" Neji hissed, controlling his volume for fear of waking up Gaara's siblings. "Why do you even say that?"

"Today…" the redhead whispered, "And now. You're upset. I caused that. I always…"

"Stop it!" Neji placed a hand on Gaara's shoulder, causing the smaller boy to look up, a little frightened. Neji removed his hand slowly, bringing it to Gaara's knees, where he rested both his arms, on on top of the other, and his head on top of them. He looked away first, trying to calm the quivering of his body, and eventually back to Gaara, whose mouth was open, but no words could find the courage to come out.

"I'm sorry," Neji said. "It was wrong of me… I almost hurt you. But you have to stop blaming what's happened on yourself. There are things in this world you can't control; that I can't control. No one can! I know I've done some things that weren't exactly the right thing to do. And if anything Gaara, you're making it better! I haven't ever to someone's house in a long, long while, and I'm having an awesome time. Because I'm with you. You even offered to help me. Why the Hell would that make things worse?"

Gaara stayed silent a while, and Neji closed his eyes to wait, being awake for so long beginning to take it's toll.

"People around me," the redhead spoke up, "Tend to get hurt."

"I'm sure it's not you. People get hurt, it's unavoidable." Neji told him.

"Then whose fault is it?"

"It's not anyone's fault. You need to stop placing blame."

Gaara mind wandered to yesterday - well, it was technically the day before yesterday - and Kankurou's words, from when they were walking to the dance.

"_It's not your fault, you know," Kankurou told him. "It was Dad's. Dad killed her; he forced her to have you, and that's why she died. He just blamed it on you because he couldn't take it. The bastard."_

"_Hn."_

"_You still blame yourself…"_

It was a bad habit Gaara had yet to rid himself of. One his father had pounded into him. And even after the man's death, the rule seemed to apply. It got worse as he got older. There were more reasons to hate him, and as he got older, he sometimes made the mistake of talking back.

"So, are we okay?" Neji asked. "You don't blame yourself?"

Gaara's world came back into focus. "I guess. I still do, a little…" His father's angry eyes glared at him from memories, but he tried pushing them away, pushing them out. "Yes."

"That's good," Neji said, then yawned, shifting his weight a little so he was more comfortable. His arms still rested on the top of Gaara's knees, near to the redhead's chest. His eyes drooped shut a little, but he stayed there, feeling Gaara's warmth meet his, real and there. Reassuring.

"Everyone makes mistakes," he continued in his sleepy voice, mind numbed by exhaustion. This caused him to sound a little unlike himself, as if the barriers in his mind had been taken down. "Everyone has their flaws. But in no way do someone's flaws mean they should be blamed. Sometimes, people do need to take blame but…not in this circumstance. Besides, it's a person's flaws…that makes them so interesting, and who they are. Or just the little things they do, not 'flaws' really, that was the wrong word to use. Like how you always… When you're unsure of something, you get this little look on your face, and move your head up."

"Do I?" Gaara asked, not quite believing him.

"Yep." Neji blinked a few times trying to get his eyes to stay open better. "But don't stop doing it now that I've told you. It's…you. I like it."

"Um, thank you?"

Neji laughed, glad the topic had changed and the mood was getting lighter. Gaara didn't even seem to mind just how close they were. Was that considered cuddling? He wasn't sure, and it didn't really matter what he called it, because what it was would be initially the same.

He felt the redhead prod him with something, which he discovered to be a pillow as he opened his eyes fully.

"Here," Gaara said. "I don't make a very good pillow."

"I think you do," Neji murmured, and Gaara blushed slightly. Neji took the pillow, though, and both settled on the bed side by side, near to eachother. Seeing Neji shiver, Gaara drew a blanket over them, hoping boundaries weren't being overstepped. It was like a game, both daring to get a little closer, to expose themselves a little more, and hoping it wouldn't collapse.

"Good night, Gaara…" Neji said somniferously, his milky eyes closing, whispering "Thank you…" before totally losing himself to sleep. Dark strands fell over his cheek, his face so calm. Gaara watched him a while, never having been one to fall asleep easily. Inside of him, it felt like something had lodged itself within his organs and was twisting and turning. It was guilt that he knew he deserved for not noticing what Neji was doing sooner. What was wrong with him that made him so blind? True, he knew Neji hid parts of himself from the world, but he he didn't think it was anything like _this_…

Trembling, he lifted his hand towards Neji, but quickly drew it back. There was a ringing of fear in his ears that wouldn't go away. What if he hurt Neji further?

He closed his eyes and buried his face in the pillow, hoping he could stay there forever, and that Neji could go somewhere far away, where nothing could hurt him. It was unbelievabley overwhelming, like having the wieght of the world on his shoulders, for him to see Neji be so self-destructive. He tried to memorize every little detail of Neji's being, so close and untainted.

And dream held them until morning, safe and sound.

o

Steam rose from the chesnut coloured liquid, tickling Neji's cheeks. He leaned against the counter, gently blowing on the surface to cool his coffee, inhaling the scent to jolt his brain into action. A troubled look played on his face. He kept trying to convince himslf against it, but it wasn't quite working. The drug…

"Damn you're up early!"

Neji's eyes looked to the doorway, where Kankurou stood, toweling off his hair. And of course, in that exclamation 'ealy' meant about 11:00.

The younger raised an eyebrow. "So are you, and you were awake before I was. I was under the impression you slept until the afternoon."

"Usually. Did Gaara tell you that?"

"He might've mentioned it. Besides, you seem that type."

"Well aren't you a smart-ass," Kankurou chuckled, grabbing the coffee-pot and pouring himself a cup. He took a lage mouthful, but winced at the temperature, his taste buds feeling like they were melting. Neji stifled a laugh, faking a yawn instead.

"So, why aren't you still asleep?" Neji asked.

"Basketball. Grudge match. Not school league, that's no fun." Kankurou decided to follow Neji's example, and blew on his coffee a little, watching it ripple up against the sides of his mug. "You do sports?"

"I used to. Not so much anymore."

"Didn't think so. You don't seem that type."

There was a small pause, before both burst into laughter, any mock-animosity between them dispersed, enveloped in the steam. Kankurou stopped abruptly though.

"You're wearing my pants."

"Oh, Gaara lent them to me," Neji said, pulling a bit at his garments. "Do you mind?"

"Not really." Kankurou shrugged. He set his coffee on the counter, then turned to Neji. "Look, I'll stop svoiding this and get to the point. Are you just fucking with my brother?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are you using him? Maybe you're just here as a joke, or to…do stuff to him. That sorta thing." Kankurou narrowed his eyes, watching Neji closely.

"Not at all!" Neji blurted out. "I'm here because Gaara is my friend, and a good one at that. I would never do anything at all with intention of hurting him or-"

"Whoa, whoa, slow down! I believe you!" Kankurou gave Neji a little pat on the back, laughing. "I was just makin' sure, cause not everyone's as good a person as you. And if you were lying, I'd have to kick your ass, got it? Gaara's had a rough time, a real rough time. Especially from Dad, and other people that were supposed to be important to him."

"He hasn't mentioned your father all that much," Neji commented cautiously.

Kankurou nodded. "He was an asshole. Gaara can tell you the rest if he wants too." He finished off his coffee, dropping the mug into the sink. "Thanks for giving Gaara a chance."

"I should be thanking him." Neji murmured, but this went unheard to Kankurou.

"Oh, by the way, you two looked pretty comfy this morning when I went in to get my stuff." Kankurou smirked.

Neji just took another drink, calmly. True, when he had awoken, he and Gaara were very close. Probably more than very close, seeing as Gaara head rested on his shoulder, half-using Neji as a matress, and Neji's arm had somehow worked it's way around Gaara to hold him there. Neji had been very careful not to wake Gaara as he slowly managed himself (a little tentatively) out of the other's embrace. Though he would admit to himself, he did remain unmoving a while, taking in the experience. Gaara's shirt had ridden up a little, exposing the pale skin of his back to Neji's hand. He could feel Gaara breathing, his heartbeat thudding into Neji chest.

"Just don't break his heart," Kankurou said, seeing Neji's fond smile. The younger felt pink rise into his cheeks, but said nothing more to Kankurou's receeding back.

o

"Come on," Gaara heard whispered in his ear, "Wake up."

"No…" the redhead muttered, shuffling away from the voice. It just laughed, and tapped him again on the ear. He opened his eyes with heavy glare, looking up at Neji, who stood beside the bed.

"How long have you been up?" Gaara asked, pushing the covers off of him. Neji shrugged, looking a little distracted.

"What're you thinking about?" the still half-asleep boy asked him.

"Nothing much," he answered. "I talked to your brother a bit earlier, and your sister's taken over the washroom now. I don't know what Hinata and Hanabi would do they had to share."

"Oh, right, you live in a mansion."

"It's not really a _mansion_, just a really big house."

"Neji, a really big house is a mansion," Gaara laughed. He stood and meandered over to his dresser, pulling out some clothing without looking to see if it matched, since his garments were mostly black anyways. Neji began heading out, pausing as he saw the book Gaara had been reading earlier that week.

"Would you mind if I looked at this a bit more?"

"Go ahead," Gaara said, pulling his T-shirt over his head. Neji quickly ducked out, feeling his pulse speed up and heat rise to his face. In the hall, he opened the book to read while Gaara changed, but couldn't quite get his focus on the words. Instead, Kankurou's joking (was it a joke? Or did he see something Neji hadn't?) words of that morning came back. Neji shook his head, trying to clear it and place all the thoughts in order, in category to figure out just what his thoughts actually amounted to. But they just fell through his fingers like grains of sand, coarse against his skin, and he just couldn't leep them in order, mingling and weaving into eachother.

Some things, you just can't explain with words or order and logic. It doesn't work that way.

So Neji stopped trying, and tipped his head back to look at the speckled ceiling tiles. And he thought about Gaara. Gaara was vibrant red hair, and creamy green eyes, and soft, small, almost delicate hands that Neji would watch sometimes during class, and sketch in the margins. To him, Gaara was someone he could care about, someone that his heart was beginning to cling to strongly, someone that he enjoyed being with.

Someone he cared strongly for.

No other words came, and if any did, they sounded awkward and false, trying to be what he couldn't quite grasp.

He cared for Gaara. That was as close as he could come to it. And maybe it was a good thing he decided to help Gaara on his little 'quest' for whatever love was, and if it even existed in the soiled world they were born into.

Because he _really_ cared for Gaara.

But did Gaara…

"Sorry I took so long," came the familiar voice as the door opened.

Neji shut the book. "Stop apologizing. You did nothing wrong."

Gaara shook a hand through his hair. "I'll try."

"I don't ask anything more than that." Neji responded.

After a while longer of chatting and a clumsy attempt at breakfast, Neji left, saying his uncle would want him home soon. The events of the graveyard were touched on briefly, but he told Gaara he didn't feel as bad about it anymore, though anger still resided between himself and his relatives.

After he left, there was a quiet that Gaara was no longer accustommed to.

o

Tiny, snow-white crystals.

His fingers fumbled with the syringe, his mind begging, begging for it. He hated lying, and oh, how he hated himself then. Hated himself for being so weak that it effected him, and so deeply, scraping at the shell he'd put around his soul, slowly tearing it to pieces. There were cracks, there always would be, but no matter how many times he patched them up, they would come back, and come back again, until he grew weary and bitter and too goddamned tired to bother.

And it still hurt.

He was becoming used to the little prick as he inserted the sharp metal into his forearm, through the skin, into the vein.

He knew what it was doing to him. It was getting harder and harder to care when he was in that state, hidden somewhere only he knew about, so far from the massive house that engulfed any free will, and away from anyone he knew who might see.

It was only a little bit, anyways. It was expensive shit.

Was it worth it?

He changed his mind every time.

Slowly, he drew out the tip of the now empty syringe, averting his eyes. Too late to turn back. You can't fuck with time like that, no, it's already set it's rambling course. You can't change things like that.

He winced, letting himself sink into the feeling.

"Forgive me… Gaara…"

_I'll try…_

Ende Chapter 13


	14. With Your Fingertips

_**Carousel**_

Chapter 14: With Your Fingertips

**Disclaimer:** Same as always.

Hand in hand.

And it was just that, fingers intertwining with another's, doing nothing but innocently touching, swinging back and forth a little if the owners were to walk.

It was not the hands themselves that everyone was looking at, no. Many people around the school yard held hands, be it of friendship, guardianship, or love. In this particular case, yes, it was love. It was Naruto and Sasuke standing with their usual circle.

It was Naruto and Sasuke.

A boy and a boy.

And that made all the difference.

No one dared come closer, or call out anything (though the whispers were loud enough), but the eyes, and the looks were hard to ignore. The group, which at the moment consisted of the usual people (sans Tenten, Sakura and Ino who had volleyball tryouts that morning) tried to act as if nothing was different, but it was. They didn't seem to care, but that didn't mean others didn't.

The morning bell struck the air harshly, and the crowds began to move inside. Within the rapid current and cacaphony of voices, the predators caught sight of their prey.

"Fags," came the sharp whisper, as a larger, black-haired boy shuffled past Naruto, purpousefully knocking him harshly to the side. Sasuke helped his boyfriend to regain balance, clenching his fist so tightly it hurt t. Not that his assistance was needed, as the assaulter found himself face to face with none other than Hyuuga Neji.

"What the Hell did you just say?" Neji growled into the boy's face.

"I said, 'fags'. As in I don't want any dirty fags like _them_ in my school." the boy hissed back. By this time, some members of the crowd had stopped, including Gaara, but the redhead had unfortunately been pushed back by larger students.

"It's alright, Neji," Sasuke said, squeezing Naruto's hand. "This isn't your fight."

"That bastard isn't worth it!" Naruto added fiercely.

Neji didn't back down, though, and continued his eerie glare at the attacker. "I want you to aplogize."

"Apologize for what, freak?"

"Apologize for being such a disrespectful asshole," Neji answered.

And the boy's reply was simply a punch to Neji's face. The Hyuuga saw it coming, but didn't have enough time to dodge fully, knocked off-balance by the force. Naruto and Sasuke both rushed forwards, but members of the crowd pressed them back. The same went for Gaara, who had finally managed to push his way back to the front, unable to do anything but watch as Neji prevented his fall and rushed at the boy with his fists raised. He made contact with the other's boy jaw, and was about to send a kick to his stomach when a taller figure stepped in between them.

"Both of you, stop!" Iruka yelled, catching Neji's leg in midair. Slowly, Neji withdrew, still glaring sharply at his opponent, a small bit of blood smudged from his lip onto his cheek.

"Neji, Katsuya, you'll both report to Tsunade's office and have a nice little chat with her concerning why you were fighting in the hall. I don't want to hear excuses." He shook his head, then turned to the students milling around. "The rest of you, back to class! Nothing to see here!"

The mob reluctantlybegan to disperse, and Neji turned to go, but was stopped by a voice.

"Neji, wait!"

Gaara had found his way through the crowd to Neji, a worried look on his face. Neji gave him a reassuring smile, but it seemed to have no effect, as Gaara reached his hand up to Neji's cheek, fingertips lightly brushing the skin near to his mouth. Neji's lips parted, but he couldn't think of anything to say, watching Gaara's disheartened face.

"You-You have blood on your face," the redhead murmured, withdrawing his fingertips. Surely enough, just a bit of blood stained them, shocking red against white. Gaara stared at it a little, unsure what to do next.

"You should go to class," Neji said quietly. "I'll be fine."

Gaara shook his head. "You're _bleeding_. I'll help you clean up."

Neji didn't have the heart to protest, as Gaara clamped his hand around Neji's wrist pulled him into the washroom. The redhead quickly wet a little bit of paper towel, his actions quick but sure. Fluorescent light was cast down upon them, balls of paper towel stuck to the cielings, and a small passage of tasteless graffitti was scribbled beside the rectangular mirror. After a few breaths, Neji's pulse was completely back to normal, though it became erratic once more as he felt Gaara wipe at his lip, the blood mixing in with the droplets of tap water. The paper towel was rough, but Gaara's fingertips were smooth and uncalloused, dabbing at the torn flesh.

"I could've done it myself," Neji mentioned.

"I know." Gaara leaned in closer to inspect the small wound, coming up on his toes, a little unsteady. Back against the wall, Neji felt another warmness come over his cheeks as one of Gaara's hands rested on his chest as not to topple over. Neji felt impulse to lean forwards, just a little bit closer, and yet he found himself frozen. They stayed that way a few seconds, the distance between them tempting to close, until Gaara slowly let himself step away, suddenly all-too aware, and a little fearful.

"Does it hurt?"

Neji shook his head, trying to keep his face from falling. "Only a little."

Was that a lie? Not entirely; Gaara never specified what he was asking about. Neji's lip felt fine. The rest of him didn't. His body felt a little worn, afteraffects from Sunday's injection, and he regretted it, causing his insides to grow heavy with guilt.

Gaara gave a little nod, as they headed into the near-empty hall, dropping his hand to his side, fingertips prickling with the blood rushing through them. As he caught Neji's eye, his head moved upwards slightly, and Neji smiled widely.

"You did it again."

"What?"

"That head thing you do," Neji replied, and Gaara blushed slightly. "Alright, I'll see you later. Kay?"

Gaara nodded, heading down the hall towards class. Neji went the opposite, trying to shake Gaara's expression from his head. It was eerie, how sad and frightened the boy looked…

By just a little bit of blood.

o

After the dispute Monday morning, the ice seemed to have broken for everyone in the junior high school. Most students didn't give a damn if guys were dating other guys and minded their own business, but some others were strongly opposed to the issue.

And some were just waiting for broken hearts to heal.

The atmosphere at the lunchtable that Monday was a little tense, though most were ignoring it. Gaara was glad when Neji walked over to their table in the cafeteria, not having had much of a chance to talk to his friend since the morning.

"What happened in the office?" the redhead asked.

"Tsunade thought my reasons were 'almost justified', and decided not to give me harsh punishment. The other guy got suspended for a week, though, and has to do some community service. I have suspension for two days starting tommorow, and detention today. I was heading there now, but decided to let you know where I'd be. You know…"

"Alright," Gaara said with a shy smile. "Thank you for telling me. I'll see you next class."

As Neji turned to leave, he gently rested his hand on Gaara's shoulder, giving a little squeeze that made Gaara's insides tingle and his smile grow wider, though he tried to hide it.

Meanwhile, Ino stared at her yogurt when she wasn't being loud, and Sakura stuck her head into her history text book, reluctant to come out. However, Naruto insisted on interfering, reaching across the table and snatch it away, despite her protests.

"Why do you need to study?" he asked, holding it up in the air so she couldn't reach. "You already know this stuff forwards and backwards, and probably sideways!"

"Just give it back!" she insisted, standing up on the bench to extend her reach. Finally, after she almost falling on Hinata, Kiba snatched the book and tossed it to her, much to Naruto's annoyment. Ino ignored this, stabbing at her yogurt, mashing the chunks of strawberry within into pulp. Shikamaru met Chouji's eye, and both sighed. Everyone could tell.

Sasuke sighed, obviously annoyed. "Ino. Sakura."

"Hai?" Ino responded roughly, but Sakura was quiet.

"Are you two alright?" he asked in his steady voice.

Ino snorted. "Why the Hell wouldn't I be? Don't worry, I'll get over it."

Meaning no, Ino wasn't exactly okay. But she was dealing with it in her own way, and anyone who stepped onto her path would likely end up roadkill.

"Sakura?"

The pink-haired girl glanced up, aware of all eyes on her. "You don't need to be concerned about me… I'm fine, really."

She ducked her head, feeling Hinata pat her hand gently, giving a knowing smile. This only made Sakura grow more unstable, until finally she stood with her tray, heading for the garbage next to the door. No one was really surprised when she didn't come back. Hinata looked at the table, her fingers fidgeting in her lap, but she didn't seem to be too upset.

"Ino, maybe you should go check on Sakura," Chouji mumbled.

Shikamaru gave a little nod of agreement. "Yeah, don't women like to be consoled by their girlfriendsin times like this?"

Ino shrugged. "I know what Sakura's dealing with. I really don't think she wants to be around people now. I may sound insensitive, but you have to respect her wishes."

Naruto leaned his head on Sasuke's shoulder, guilt hidden in his half-smile. Sasuke looked at him through the corner of his eye, his look a little cat-like; mischeivious and clever. He leaned down a little, the tension building, though Naruto looked a little far-off.

TenTen rolled her eyes. "Don't get carried away, you two, or you'll just be asking for trouble. Geez, something interesting happens just as I'm moving."

Quite a few heads popped up at this, the most noticeable one being Lee (most likely because of his hair-cut).

"You're moving?" he asked loudly. "When?"

"At the end of this week…" TenTen replied dimly.

Ino seemed outraged. "And why didn't you tell us until now?"

"It was on pretty short notice, since it's just my mom's company that's moving us. Besides, I didn't want to have some big sappy good-bye party," TenTen explained.

"Good chance of that happening now," Shikamaru commented sarcastically as he saw the glint in Ino's eye.

"Dammit, TenTen, we're gonna throw you a party anways!" she yelled, and everyone gave a collective sigh, knowing they would all be pulled into helping, either by guilt or blackmail (and Ino knew quite a bit about both).

o

Row upon row of puke-green and beige lockers lined the empty hall, silent save for Gaara's light footsteps, following him as he headed back to the cafeteria. He had gone to his locker to get his history notesafter being reminded of thetest they had at the end of the day, taking a little detour past the detention room on the way, and had almost got caught waving coyly at Neji through the window. Suddenly, there was sound from up ahead of him, as a figure turned the corner, eyes following her feet. He stopped, seeing the tears on her cheeks.

Sakura looked up, then turned her face away. "Oh. Hi, Gaara."

"Hi…"

Sakura sniffled, using a nimble finger to catch any drips of mascara that might've been coming from her eyes. Her bangs were slightly wet, mostly likely from splashing her face with water, and her make-up looked as if it had been hastefully reapplied, though that didn't cover the red puffiness of her eyes. She blinked a few times, trying to calm herself.

"It hurts…very much, inside of you…doesn't it?" Gaara asked softly.

Sakura looked as if she had been caught off-guard for a second, before leaning against the lockers. "It does. More than I ever thought it would. I mean, it always hurt before, when Sasuke would ignore me, or call me annoying but…now that it's actually… He's completely out of my reach. Maybe he always was, but that doesn't make it any better."

Gaara seemed hesitant, taking a step or two towards her. "You cared for him."

"That was obvious," she said a little snarkily. "I loved him, if you can call it that. I know it sounds stupid, but I did! I…still do, I think. On some level. But maybe it was just a crush, who the Hell knows!"

A bang reverberated down the hall as she hit her fist against the metal, closing her eyes tightly. Gaara ventured just a little closer, eyes sympathetic.

"I'm not sure what to say to help you…" he murmured.

"It's alright. I mean, you're here. I suppose I wanted to be on my own, but I think it helps to talk to someone. I feel like such a fool. Everyone can see. I guess my special person just isn't Sasuke, and I can only hope things turn out. We're only thirteen, what do we know about this sort of thing? It felt so strong, though. Maybe I was imagining." Her eyes darkened once more. "Thank you…for listening to me. It means a lot."

He gave her a little nod, nervously shifting his eyes. "Wh-what does it feel like?"

"What does what feel like?"

"…love. If you don't mind me asking."

"No, it's okay. I guess… In a way it was the best thing I had ever felt," she told him softly, and they began to walk side by side back to the cafeteria. "Sometimes, when we met eyes, or were even close to eachother, I couldn't help but smile. It just made me feel so good inside, made me want to work hard to be there for him, and to make him notice me. It was horrible, other times. I hated myself for being so pathetic, and not meaning anything to him. But…" Her face took on her usual cheerful expression. "I don't regret it. Not at all."

Gaara gave a bit of a smile, thoughts hiding beneath the emerald of his eyes. Sakura definitely looked better, and he felt a little proud for helping her. As they came to the cafeteria table, a few eyebrows were raised.

"Were you two, like…doing something?" Kiba asked, and recieved three separate kicks from under the table.

Sakura shook her head. "I just met Gaara on the way back from the washroom. Nothing happened."

Kiba was tempted to continue his jesting, but decided his own personal safety was more important. Gaara immersed himself in his history notes, though it was hard to concentrate with all the buzz about TenTen's going-away party, and Sakura's words about love floating around his head.

_It hurt…_

And yet she had no regrets.

How could one believe so strongly in something that they weren't even sure existed?

o

Immediately after lunch, before the dreaded history test, came art. Kakashi set out some items for his students, letting them sit choose the groups they would sit in, then telling them to arrange the items in any way they pleased.

"Today's lesson is on still life," he announced, handing out paper. "You'll be drawing these objects from a few different angles. We're getting this curriculum stuff overwith so we can start doing some more interesting art later."

Lee raised his hand. "Um, Kakashi-sensei, what happened to our clay sculptures? Have you baked them yet?"

The art teacher looked puzzled for a second before putting back on a carefree guise. "Slipped my mind. I'll get them done for next week."

Which most likely meant never.

Gaara stared intently at the objects Neji and Lee had carefully arranged. He tried to draw them, outline first, then inside details; the way Kakashi had specified, but found himself drawing everything out of porportion. They'd gone over this techniquie endlessly at his old school, but he hadn't bothered to listen much, trying to get as far away from everyone as possible by burrowing into his head.

"Hey, Gaara…"

The redhead looked over at Neji lazily. "Mm-hm?"

Neji leaned in a little closer, eyes flitting anxiously around the room, resting finally on Gaara. "Um, I was just… I heard something from Kiba, and was wondering if it was true…" He paused, tapping his pencil a few times on the desk, before Gaara gave him an insistent nod and he found the words to continue. "Were you and Sakura…um, doing anything at lunch?"

Gaara gave an amused smile. "No, not at all. I just met her in the hall and we just talked a little."

"So nothing-"

"Nothing happened," Gaara said firmly, and Neji relaxed a little, letting his eyes run over the curves of a teacup before starting again on his sketch. Gaara took a little peek, surprised at how much Neji's sketch looked like the real thing.

"How did you get so good?"

Neji shrugged. "Hinata and I always had to go to business dinners with our father, dressed up all fancy. The adults didn't want to talk to us, though, so I started taking a sketch book and drawing the weird statues or people. There's one this weekend I'm dreading, but I have to go…" As his voice faded off, he grabbed his eraser, and carefully turned the opening of the vase leaned against a bottle back into white. "This looks weird from this angle, especially with the lighting." Neji wrinkled his nose, showing frustration. "How are you doing, Lee?"

Lee gave a thumbs up, concentrating too intensely to say anything.

Gaara veiwed his own work skeptically. "Looks like an earthquake hit it."

Neji gave it a look over, and shook his head. "It's not that bad, really. You're shading's pretty nice."

"Not really."

Neji ran his thumb over the slightly rough surface of the paper, still light enough that the lead didn't smudge.

"Yes really," he argued. "You're…a lot more…than you think you are. And even if you don't think so, I do."

Gaara's eyes flickered to the cut on Neji's lip, then up to courageously meet Neji's gaze. And Neji flinched just a little, as memories of yesterday flitted in. Would Gaara understand, just how much it was eating away at him? He didn't want to let it show, feeling filthy and ungood.

Still life is the art of capturing a moment, so you can return to it again and again, never letting yourself forget.

Ende Chapter 14


	15. Fed Up With Smoke and Mirrors

_**Carousel**_

Chapter 15: Fed Up With Smoke and Mirrors

Link to H-R's fanart in my bio. It's kick-ass. 

**Disclaimer:** Never did. Never will.

The ghostly pale eyes of Hyuuga Hiashi gazed at Neji from across the large study, the teen's body language and expression coming across as part hostile, part uncaring. The silence was thick, filled with unspoken vows of animosity and misunderstandings.

"Your principal called me, Neji."

"…"

"She told me you've been suspended until Thursday."

Neji nodded curtly.

"Care to explain how this came to be? I've heard one version, and apparently you were in a fight."

"True," Neji said. "Someone insulted two of my friends because for being gay."

"And?"

"And I told him not to."

"So he hit you?" Hiashi eyed the cut on Neji's lip, just a little swollen.

"Yes."

"And you hit back?"

"Yes." Neji spoke without hesitation, and Hiashi could take it for nothing but truth. His nephew was not one to lie outright. Even when he had been a child, only on rare occasion would he avoid the truth. A half-smile grew on Hiashi's face, as he walked towards the teen.

"You shouldn't have hit him back, and I have no choice but to ground you for the next two weeks. Mind you, your presence is still mandatory at my business dinner. But it was good of you to stand up for your _friends_…" His expression softened, liking the new development, as Neji had been rather solitary ever since…

"You're reminding me more and more of your father…"

Neji stiffened, head snapping up to look his uncle in the eye. "How _dare you_ speak of him after what happened!"

Hiashi looked away, walking past Neji to exit the room. "I am not going to argue with you on that subject. Not now."

"Don't walk away from me!" Neji snapped, the vehement words echoing a few times before fading, heard throughout the entire building. After a moment he turned away, muscles still tense. "I'm sorry…"

Hiashi paused, mouth set in a firm line, before giving Neji a nod, and continuing down the hall, the only sound the uneven rhythm of their breathing.

o

**Friday**

Fortunately, the week went by quickly, and it seemed no time at all until Neji returned to school to find himself a little bit of a hero, congratulated by quite a few students he didn't even know. The tension surrounding Naruto and Sasuke had become hidden, as Tsunade had given a tolerance assembly on Tuesday, and anyone who still felt resentment wasn't too keen on showing it.

However, this minimal taste of some kind of fame wasn't all too sweet in his mouth. He felt his mind running off more and more during class, or lunch, and bitterness stained him as he forced himself to stay clinging to reality. More and more he felt sick of himself; he couldn't help it. And he was beginning to ache for the drug again, just a little, and that's what he hated most. He didn't like to lie. He didn't like to break promises…

"Neji?"

He glanced up, confused as he had been the only person at the lunch table. Everyone was waiting in the lunch line for pizza (Friday's special), and though Gaara had offered to stay with him, Neji insisted that he go.

Sasuke sat down beside him, resting his chin on his hands. "Hey."

Neji blinked a few times, waiting for things to properly focus. "Um, hi."

The black-eyed boy watched him for a second, his look casual but slightly accusing. "Neji, I heard you were with _those friends_ again."

Still out of it, Neji shook his head. "What friends?"

"You know the ones I'm talking about."

"Oh." Neji bit his lip lightly. "Yeah."

"I thought you didn't see _those friends_ anymore."

"I-"

"Did you lie to me?" Sasuke's tones were forceful, insistent. He and Neji had been acquaintances for a while, but they never got too close to each other. Some of the people Sasuke knew outside of school sold to Neji, and Sasuke was angry when he found out. He had actually been so angry he had punched Neji, and demanded he not do it again; a solution that only worked for a month or so, as they grew apart from the short-lived almost-friendship.

"Don't be so damn hypocritical; I know you used to buy from them sometimes."

"'Used to'. 'Sometimes'. Neji, I think you've gone over just 'sometimes'."

"It's none of your business."

"It's not just fucking hurting you!" Sasuke snapped. "It's hurting Gaara, in case you haven't noticed, and a lot of other people, myself included! And if you want to be so fucking selfish, then fine!"

The conversation ended abruptly when Sasuke was glomped from behind by Naruto, who hung off his shoulder, laughing. There was a quiet, as Sasuke continued to stare darkly at Neji, and Naruto grew worried, glancing from one to the other quizzically.

"Did I interrupt something?"

"I don't think so," Neji said, going back to staring at the table. The smell of food was just making it worse. He rested his head on the table, closing his eyes. After a while, he heard Gaara sit down beside him, and he opened one eye.

"I'm just tired," he feigned. He closed his eyes, only to open them a few seconds later. "Hey."

"Yeah?"

"Do you want to go the playground after school?"

"I thought you were grounded."

Neji shrugged. "The weekend starts tonight, and I won't be able to talk to you until Monday. Anyways, we don't have to stay long."

Gaara gave a cautious smile. "Kay."

Neji lay his head on his folded arms, trying to gather whatever in him that had yet to be tainted and hide it somewhere, so that if he could make things better without getting all of him dirty, there would be something to give to Gaara.

o

Temari wasn't sure if it was by chance she found herself standing in front of the slightly familiar white house with black shutters. After completing flunking her trigonometry test, she decided to blow off some steam by running recklessly until her leg muscles felt like rubber and refused to let her go any farther. She hadn't been paying that much attention, though, and ended up not at her house, but in another subdivision. To be precise, directly in front of Shikamaru's house.

And as usual, he was lying on the lawn, watching the dreary November clouds, thick and grey with patches of blue in between. After a few moments, his eyes flickered over to her.

"What happened to you?"

She continued trying to catch her breath, leaning down to rest her hands on her knees. "Failed my" pant "trig test," pant "and" pant "I'm pissed."

"I see." Shikamaru looked her over once more. "You shouldn't stop moving so abruptly, it's not good for you. And bending over restricts your breathing."

A little reluctantly, Temari stood up straight, wincing at the sharp pain in her lungs. "Can I lie down here?"

"Why are you asking me?"

"It's your lawn, isn't it?"

Shikamaru shrugged. "I don't really care."

Temari flopped down next to him, pressing her body into the cold ground. Though she'd undone her jacket, she was still boiling hot and greatly uncomfortable from it. After a few minutes she was able to calm her breathing, and flipped over onto her back to look at the sky.

"I hope it snows again soon," she murmured.

"Why?"

"It didn't snow much where I used to live. It was warm all the time. I want to see it snow again."

"Where did you used to live?" Shikamaru inquired.

"Sunaga. It's pretty far south of here." When she said the name, there was no fond smile on her face, just a subtle twitch of her lips. Quickly, she reached her hands up into the air, a whimsical look on her face. "I wish I could touch a cloud."

"Why?"

"I dunno. It seems really fluffy, and soft. It just seems like something fun to do."

Shikamaru snorted. "It only looks that way. It's just water vapor; it would be no different than fog. But… yeah. I guess it would be cool to touch one."

Temari nodded in approval, and found herself smiling at him, and him smiling at her, and for a moment it was just that, before both came to a sudden realization of what was happening and snapped their heads away, blushing to frightening shades. There was a prolonged silence, wherein Temari regained composure, staring at the clouds feeling herself sink into their soft aria, drifting and melding into one another, forever shifting in changing. After a while, she found herself captivated, almost forgetting all about whose lawn she was lying on as she watched.

"I see why you like clouds so much," she said finally. "It's really relaxing. And…kinda fun, I guess. Say, Shikamaru…? Shikamaru?"

Temari looked over to where Shikamaru laid, eyes closed and asleep. Anger rose inside of her, but she lay her fist down, sighing.

"Idiot. I hope someone steps on you."

Standing, she picked up her bag from where she'd dropped it, looking down at him fondly before heading off.

o

"Are you sure your uncle won't be mad?" Gaara asked cautiously, setting his bag down at the base of the slide, the playground vacated due to the cold pre-winter weather. The leaves were all faded in color, crunching as he walked over the dead ones that had fallen to the ground.

"He probably will," Neji said lightly, "But it's not that big a deal, and he shouldn't be too angry." He sat down on the short wooden beams that encased the playground, keeping the sea of small grey pebbles inside. "It doesn't matter. I'm going to be stuck inside all weekend (except for the damn business dinner), without being able to talk to you, or anyone, so…"

Gaara gave a small nod, eyes dropping momentarily to the leaf graveyard that was the ground as he sat down near to Neji. He couldn't help but mentally wince at the mention of an angry parent, memories of his father coming back. It was an incredible relief that the man was dead and gone, but even as a figment of recollection he was continuing to inflict damage. Things felt strange after his father's death, as Gaara had been suddenly pushed out of the unchanging routine of punishment, both verbal and physical. Sometimes, he found himself subconsciously making himself stumble, as to injure himself. He knew he shouldn't, but he almost couldn't help it, unable to shake himself of his father's angry face, the words coming back again and again…

"Hey, Gaara?"

The redhead looked up, jerking backwards in the suddenness of it.

Neji gazed at him intensely, a small frown dressing his lips. "What were you thinking about?"

"Nothing," Gaara breathed, perhaps a little too quickly for the look on Neji's face only grew.

"Mm-hm."

"I mean… It wasn't nothing, it just wasn't important."

"You looked upset," Neji said persistently.

Gaara refused to look at him still, pressing his lips together. It was a secret that only he, Temari and Kankurou knew, and weren't about to give away. While he was still alive they had considered telling someone about what was happening; society would give it the word 'abuse' and it would start a chain of events none of them really wanted to happen. Things would fall apart. Thus they told no one. And after keeping that inside for so long, hiding it and trying to smother it, Gaara didn't really want to let it out. Even to Neji. It was a part of him that never saw sunlight.

Neji stared at him a while, silent in thought. Gaara ducked his head, and with every second that went by he felt a little sicker to his stomach, afraid to look up at Neji. His father had _hated_ it when he lied…

"Gaara."

He still didn't look up.

The white-eyed boy reached out, lightly touching his knee. Gaara flinched, the muscle involuntarily twitching, but Neji kept the minor contact.

"Come sit next to me. Okay?"

Gaara hesitated, but after a few moments he stood and sat adjacent to the other boy, prying his eyes from the ground to look up at him.

"Do you remember when I asked you to be honest with me," Neji asked softly, "That day we ate lunch in the schoolyard?"

Gaara nodded, unable to think of anything to say.

"You don't have to tell me," Neji continued. "I won't-"

"It's just something that… I don't tell people." Gaara interrupted, speaking disconnected fragments of his thoughts. "No one knows. I'm sorry. It doesn't matter anymore. I just can't. Not right now. Later, I promise."

_I promise…_

Neji let his breath in and out slowly, shivering a little as the wind swept in. "Okay," he said quietly, drumming his fingers lightly against his thighs. Words buzzed in his head, but he couldn't find anything concrete to say. He knew he was being hypocritical, after he himself had avoided telling Gaara things. Even still, Gaara's evasion hurt him.

"I guess you won't be able to go to TenTen's good-bye party, then." Gaara commented, and Neji let out his breath, glad the other had spoken.

"No. When is it again?"

"Tomorrow, in the afternoon," Gaara said, quiet but calming.

"It'll be kinda weird without her," Neji added. "She was a pretty good soccer player, but I didn't really know her. Hey, what's it like moving to another place and being the new kid?"

Gaara looked up, thoughtful for a second. "I'm not sure."

Neji raised an eyebrow. "What does that mean?"

Gaara shrugged. "Here isn't all that much different from my old school, besides the lay-out and all. Except… Well, not everyone hates me here."

"Why would we…" Neji cut himself off. "Everyone _hated_ you?"

The redhead nodded. "Sort of. I never had any friends. No one talked to me at all, unless they were yelling at me."

"No friends at all?" Neji asked. "Not even acquaintances, or…"

Gaara shook his head, then shrugged. "It doesn't matter."

"I just don't get how anyone could ever _hate_ you," the white-eyed boy told him.

Giving an odd little smile, Gaara looked at the ground, hands tightening their grip on his knees. "Why not?"

"Because there's absolutely nothing about you that I could find reason to hate. Nothing about you…I don't like. A lot. I don't get why you seem to feel that way about yourself."

Neji's voice was quiet yet insistent, as he gently reached over to tip Gaara's face towards him. Gaara's breath caught in his throat as he caught Neji's gaze, both unsure. Neji opened his mouth a little, forgetting what he was going to say as all the things he had been thinking just moments ago vanishing. He found himself leaning forwards, glancing to Gaara's mouth, then eyes.

And then it just happened.

Eyes closed, their lips delicately brushed against each other. Gaara pulled away after a few pounding moments, his entire body shaking, overwhelmed. Part of him just wanted to sink into Neji and never have to come out. He had never meant anything to anyone, save Temari and Kankurou, but this was different. This was a lot different. Warm liquid sloshed around in his chest, and it felt as if the rest of him were crumbling, a strange wanting rising within him.

But on the other hand, he felt an aching doubt that forced him away. It was too much. He didn't know if he was ready. Besides, what if Neji got hurt? It was probable; everyone around him was getting hurt, and he didn't want to pull Neji in further. That was unfair. And as his eyes flickered open, he felt guilt, seeing Neji's almost-hurt expression. It was almost enough to make him collapse, everything inside his head screaming, begging, attacking him and each other.

"I shouldn't," he started, quickly trying to pull away, but Neji's hand caught his wrist.

"Gaara, I know if people hurt you before," he tried, "But I promise I won't. I could never hurt you."

"That's not what I'm worried about," Gaara mumbled as he turned away, still quivering. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

"I don't want you to be sorry." Neji's grip on Gaara's wrist loosened, and he pulled him into a hug from behind that he didn't (couldn't) refuse. "Why are you, anyways?"

The redhead took a second to think before answering, feeling Neji's heartbeat pounding into his back. "I shouldn't let you get too close to me. You'll get hurt."

"I don't care if I get hurt, Gaara."

"But I do! Because I care about you!" Gaara said loudly.

"I know, I know," Neji gently reassured his grip on Gaara, not about to let him go. "Was it also that…you weren't ready for the kiss?"

"Maybe. Not really." Gaara leaned back his head against Neji's shoulder. "I was just caught off-guard a little."

"Good. I was afraid I had forced it on you." Neji sighed, a quiet smile making its way onto his face. "But if you want, we can forget what just happened, and pretend things haven't changed."

"That wouldn't work. And I don't want that, anyways."

"Mm." Neji felt his heart leap, practically overjoyed. "Um, Gaara?" he asked after a while, feeling his own cheeks heat up. "Would you mind not telling the people at school about this? It's not that I'm ashamed, not in the least, I just… You saw how things were with Naruto and Sasuke. I don't want people to say things about you."

Gaara nodded in agreement, not being much of a person to expose himself like that anyways.

"I don't know if you want to be 'going out'," Neji continued, knowing very well he had begun to ramble, "But once I'm not grounded, I'd like to do stuff with you… if you want to. But if you don't want to, that's fine, I-"

"I would… like that."

And for a while the two just sat, quiet, enjoying each other's company. Neji still held Gaara, who thought about the kiss, which had caused him to shudder through with both pleasure and fear. And it _was_ frightening; being that close to someone, when for so long you hadn't dared, had been pushed away and hated. It was hard for him to trust, but he was doing the best he could.

Finally, he forced himself to speak up. "You should probably get home soon."

"You're right," Neji commented, tentatively unwrapping his arms from around Gaara, and wondering just how long they would've stayed there if no one had said anything. He grabbed his schoolbag as he stood, then reaching his hand out to Gaara. "Here. I'll walk you home."

"You don't have to."

"I want to."

Gaara picked up his bag, then placed his hand in Neji's, letting himself be helped up. That sort of thing had happened before. He took each memory, of the graveyard, of in his bedroom, every moment and held them close to him, not wanting them to float away. He now had good memories, unlike the old ones he tried to throw away, but wouldn't let him.

"So… how are things with… you know…" he asked, both to satisfy his own curious mind, and because he knew it would come up sooner or later, and he'd rather know sooner.

Neji stiffened, though he kept the same pace. "That."

Yes, _that_.

"I won't lie," he confessed, "I still want for it. Not since last Sunday have I…used, though."

Gaara winced. "That's good… Not good, but you know."

"Yeah."

"That's what Sasuke was talking to you about, wasn't it?" he inquired.

Neji nodded. "It's amazing."

"What is?"

"How you can pick up on things like that," he replied.

Gaara's cheeks blushed marginally. "But… are you alright?"

"I'm fine."

"Still, you can't keep-"

Neji cut him off. "It's not easy, Gaara, but I'm trying. That's all I can do. I made some mistakes, I know. I just have to fix them."

He paused as they reached the front of Gaara's house, not yet letting go of the redhead's hand. Gingerly, he swooped in to kiss Gaara's cheek.

"I'll see you Monday. And I'll be 'good' this weekend," he promised, and Gaara nodded, heading up to his house. He took a second before going inside, trying to wipe the elated look from his face. But it was hard.

o

Kankurou looked up from his overdue Geography homework as Gaara walked in. He raised a hand to wave to his brother, before putting his large headphones back on, blaring Marilyn Manson as loud as it could go. He continued on for a few minutes, before looking up again. Gaara sat on his bed with a thick book in his lap, but he was staring off into space, green eyes lucid, and a look on his face Kankurou had never seen before. Slowly, he slid his headphones down to rest around his neck as he stood, walking over to Gaara.

"What happened to you?" he asked curiously.

Gaara looked up, blinking a few times before becoming alert. "What?"

Kankurou smirked, plopping down beside his brother. "Did a girl kiss you?"

For a few seconds Gaara just stared wide-eyed at his brother, severely confused. "W-wha…? No!"

The elder raised an eyebrow, watching Gaara's cheeks turn faintly red. From the reaction, it was just plain obvious! "Did a _guy_ kiss you?"

"…n-no."

"It was that Neji guy, wasn't it?" Kankurou asked loudly. Gaara's cheeks turned bright red, and his brother gave a celebratory whoop. "Ha! I knew it! You kissed Neji! Gaara kissed Neji!"

"Gaara kissed who?" Temari asked, peaking in the doorway.

Kankurou gave her a grin reminiscent of the Cheshire Cat. "Neji!"

Gaara gave a quiet groan as Temari squealed, rushing over and pouncing on her youngest brother.

"Didyoudidyoudidoyou?"

In response, Gaara increased his glare to Level 8, causing Kankurou to laugh even harder.

"Gaara, we're your siblings, we have a right to know!"

"…"

"Well?"

"Yes." Gaara said, not wanting to be put through any more torture. Temari and Kankurou both continued cheering, which stopped abruptly when a pillow sailed over their heads. Temari ran out quickly, followed by Kankurou, who didn't have time to get away before a pillow hit him in the face. He scrambled out, closing the door behind him just as another pillow slammed into the wall.

End of Chapter 15


	16. Eyes Wide Open and Breathing

**_Carousel_**

Chapter 16: Eyes Open Wide and Breathing

It's been a while, eh? Sorry for the wait.

**Disclaimer:** (I'm getting so tired of putting these things)

In the silence that smothered the night, Gaara's thoughts whirled. He sat on the tire-swing in the backyard, eyes wandering the star-stained sky. Every now and then, his hand would travel from its place by his side to his shoulder, to his mouth, and linger there a while before he realized that he'd even done it. Each time, the memory of that afternoon ran through his head, so loud and vibrant there was no way it could have been a dream.

_Neji…_

Fingertips to his lips.

…_and the kiss._

His hand jumped back down, and his face began to give off a faint pink glow, though in the shadow you could barely see it. He let out his breath, watching it condense into grey wisps before twisting and vanishing from sight.

Gaara hadn't quite been aware of how he felt for Neji before. He noticed _something_, that was for sure, but he had hidden it from himself, continually evading, not wanting for either of them to get hurt. He used to think love, warmth; those kinds of emotions were completely pointless. But he was beginning to doubt that. He was beginning to doubt that a lot.

Truth was, he did feel strongly towards Neji, more than he'd ever felt for anyone, and it was enough to make him dizzy. Stranger still, he liked it.

_Loved it?_

Startled at his own thoughts, Gaara paused, taking a second to calm down. He leaned back his head, closing his eyes tightly. Part of him liked those thoughts, and tried to spur them further.

However, other parts of him didn't much like them at all. Every time those sort of thoughts came up, he could feel something inside of him begin whispering harshly, getting louder and louder until he almost wanted to retch. Like a ghost, it haunted him, refusing neither to leave nor to reveal itself fully.

**You'll never be loved.**

Gaara winced a little.

_Who said this is love?_

The things in his head didn't respond, though he could barely consider that a victory. Love, love, love, he had no idea what it was. Maybe the darker part of him was right…

"Gaara!"

The redhead looked up to see Temari standing in the back doorway, rubbing her hands together for warmth.

"Come in! It's freezing!" she called.

Compliant, Gaara hopped off the swing, the world deaf save his dragging footsteps over the frosted-painted grass and the creak of the swing as it continued its steady rocking, back and forth.

o

Warm.

It was warm.

In the vast alabaster world, currents fast and ever changing, ever flowing, he sat in a little hidden place. All through him, he could feel warmth, sprouting from where his hand met that of another. The hand had led him to this place, an obscured pocket tucked deep within, just for them.

Over his skin, he felt the currents gush and swirl, but the milk wasn't frozen cold like it usually was, no, it was warm, though not hot enough to burn.

To scald his skin.

To peel it off.

To open the spidering indigo veins and the crimson arteries that pulsed with his heartbeat.

To let his red red blood stain the deep whiteness.

He shuddered at the thought, and the hand reassured its grip.

Yet he couldn't help but think it would look pretty-almost-beautiful; the vermillion drifting like heavy smoke around him. It did before. It made him _hurt_.

The hand clung even tighter to him.

o

Then came Monday morning.

Gaara was half-asleep as he walked through the school gates, as sleep had been unkind to him the past weekend, as it usually was. With the drowsiness, there was also an urgent anxiety in his stomach, which had made it difficult to eat breakfast. He couldn't help it. Some mornings he just didn't feel up to it. This particular morning isn't really like that, though. It wasn't a negative sort of feeling that pulled his knees down to smash against the ground, reality and fantasy pushing and pulling him around at whim.

It was more… elating.

"Good morning."

Gaara looked up, giving a coy grin as he saw Neji, leaning against a wall with his sketchbook.

"Hey."

There was a slight pause as Neji stood, rolling his shoulders in stretch. His fingers were a raw pink from the cold, a pencil still clutched in them.

"Can I see them?" the redhead asked, glancing to the sketchbook.

"Oh, sure," said Neji, quickly slipping his pencil between his teeth so he could use both his hands to flip through the pages of the spiral-bound book, vanilla pages all covered in pencil or ink marks.

Gaara walked over to stand just next to Neji, his eyes widening as he saw the drawing. "Wow."

"The business dinner was pretty boring," Neji murmured, taking the pencil from his mouth to put it into his jacket's pocket, "as usual. I'm just touching some up. Nn, the shading's off on that one…"

Gaara leaned in a bit closer, inspecting the sketch of two hands, fingers lightly intertwined, the background vaguely shaded grey to make them stand out more. "It's amazing," he commented.

"Here." Neji quickly bent the top of the page, and then carefully tore it away from the rest of the book. He held out the drawing to Gaara. "You should have it."

"I couldn't-"

Neji pressed the sheet into his hands, giving him an insistent look. "I _want_ you to have it, Gaara. After all, I… missed you this weekend."

Tentatively, Gaara took the sheet of paper, dropping to his knees to tuck it inside his schoolbag. "Thank you."

"Gaara." Neji crouched down in front of Gaara, startling the redhead a little. "Are you _sure_ you're okay with… you know… I don't mind if you're not."

"I am," Gaara reassured him, eyes dropping to the ground. "Just…"

"GOOD MOOOOORNIIING!"

The yell startled both boys; Gaara's entire body jolted and he lost balance, falling forwards towards Neji, who as a result ended up tipping backwards onto the cement, Gaara on top of him. The redhead went rigid and scrambled off as quickly as possible; his face turning a shade that rivaled his hair color. Neji propped himself up on his elbows, blinking in alarm as he found himself face to face with Rock Lee.

"Good morning, Neji!"

"Hi, Lee…" Cautiously, Neji stood and brushed himself off, giving Lee obvious 'I-don't-want-to-talk-to-you, thanks-for-spoiling-the-moment' vibes. Nevertheless, Lee had already turned his attention to Gaara.

"Hello Gaara!"

"Um…"

Sasuke, who had recently appeared behind Neji, snorted. "Geez Lee, it's only 8:45. Gaara doesn't need to be disturbed this early in the day."

"Oh…" Uncharacteristically, Lee sighed and hung his head. "Sorry."

Neji raised an eyebrow. "What's with him?"

Ino, who had decided to follow Sasuke over, gave a devilish grin. She leaned nearer to Neji and whispered behind her hand "I think Lee's a little upset that a certain someone moved away…"

"I see," said Neji, completely uninterested. He turned, and found Sasuke's glaring charcoal eyes upon him.

"Good morning, Sasuke."

Sasuke nodded. "Neji."

An uneasy moment passed over the group, which Ino chose to break by helping Gaara up, as everyone, including the redhead himself, seemed to have forgotten he was still on the ground.

"Are you sick?" she asked, putting a hand on his forehead, "You look kinda flushed."

"I don't think so," said Gaara, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. Ino shrugged, and went about telling Neji another rumor she'd heard, though he quite blatantly told her he didn't care. He gave Gaara a few glances over her shoulder, but Gaara pretended not to see him.

Sick. Diseased…

"_Don't look at me like that again, you diseased little bastard!"_

Gaara winced, placing a few fingers to his temple.

Sooner or later…

o

The bell rang, and Kankurou promptly got up from his seat, gathering the few materials he'd actually remembered to bring to class and heading straight out of the classroom.

It was time for his favorite period of the day.

Lunch.

He mentally cheered as he grabbed a tray and headed for the line, the smell of hot food drifting over the myriad of students and into his nostrils. Temari always packed Gaara a lunch as an attempt to make sure he ate something, but Kankurou couldn't be bothered. Why waste time doing that when we could have an extra five minutes sleeping?

"Oi! Kankurou!"

The hooded boy looked up, to see Zaku beckoning him with a slight wave from near the front of a line. Kankurou shoved his way through a group of video game nerds and a few wannabe popular girls, managing to end up beside his friend without getting anything spilled on him.

"Thanks," Kankurou said, eyeing the stain on Zaku's shirt. "How was chem. class?"

The shorter boy smirked. "Interesting."

"You blew something up again, didn't you?"

"Maybe."

Kankurou let out a laugh, stepping forwards to receive a portion of food. Zaku and he had met in their math class, after discovering neither of them really knew anything about math at all. Kankurou had started hanging out with him sometimes. Zaku was on the rebellious side of things, and often skipped class. He dressed mainly in black and other odd items, though he couldn't be described as stereotypical Goth. The only word Kankurou could really describe him and his companions was… weird.

"Come on, Dosu and the rest of em already got us a table," Zaku told Kankurou, pushing his way through the crowd. They quickly found the table where the other few sat, and sat down. Kin, currently the only female member of the party, had her leather boots up on the table as she leaned back against the wall, clacking her tongue ring against her teeth. Dosu was making a mountain out of his mashed potatoes, and Kankurou raised an eyebrow as he found a stain similar to that on Zaku's shirt on Dosu's toque. He often compared the three, as they seemed to be rather close, to the hyenas in the Lion King. Dosu was Ed, hands down.

However, he wasn't quite as weird as the twins, Sakon and Ukon, who looked as if they'd seen the Rocky Horror Picture Show one too many times (1). Sakon, the younger yet more mature, was leafing through a vampire novel ("Vampire novels kick ass. They're very seductive and violent creatures by nature. It's like a porno and a gory horror all in one!" as he'd once told Kankurou.), while Ukon rapidly pressed buttons on what was probably not his own Game Boy. At the end of the table, Kidoumaru and Jiroubou played a game of shoji on a small magnetic board, and it was obvious the former was winning by a landslide.

Jiroubou held up his hands in defeat. "I give up."

"You're no fun," Kidoumaru complained, gathering the pieces. He turned to Kankurou. "You game?"

"No thanks," Kankurou replied, sliding onto the metallic bench, starting as a shout came from the other end of the table.

"Stop playing with your food!" Kin yelled, smacking Dosu on the back of the head. After fixing his toque, he picked up a plastic spoonful of potato and glared at her.

"You know I will."

Kin hands shot protectively to her long black hair.

"Guys, shut up!" Ukon said, pouting as he mashed buttons with his fingers, trying desperately to beat his game.

Sakon sighed. "Ukon, give me back my Game Boy."

"No."

"Ukon!"

Kankurou peered over Ukon's shoulder. "What are you playing?"

"I dunno; I stole it from Sakon."

At this Kankurou laughed, just barely managing to avoid choking on a mouthful of cafeteria food.

Ukon raised an eyebrow. "You have a little brother too, right?" (Sakon glared at this comment, annoyed at being called 'little')

"Yeah, Gaara. He's in grade eight," said Kankurou, shrugging. "Why?"

"I think I've seen him around… or maybe Sasuke-kun told me about him." Ukon said. "Red hair? Dark eyeliner sometimes?"

"That'd be him."

"Does weird make-up run in the family?"

"You're one to be talking," Kankurou snorted.

"Hey, I resent that!" Ukon's eyes narrowed in mock-glare. "You _know_ I look seksy in lipstick. Seksy with a K!"

Kankurou gave a nervous smile, unsure of how to respond to that statement. Luckily he didn't, as Tayuya chose that exact moment to pounce on Kin.

"Hello, little sister," purred Tayuya as she wrapped her arms around Kin's shoulders from behind. The younger girl looked alarmed, lurching forward with the sudden weight placed upon her. The older sister sported a cut-up Superman top and black tight-fitting jeans, bangles piled onto her arms.

"And where were you, Tayuya?" Kidoumaru asked curtly.

Tayuya shrugged. "Here and there, you know."

"What about Kimimaro?" asked a bitter Kin.

"I don't have a clue. Haven't seen him all fucking day."

"Stop cursing," Jiroubou said, "It isn't ladylike, and you're a bad influence on your little sister."

"Yeah, yeah," Tayuya rolled her eyes, turning her attention back to her prisoner. "I'm going to the roof for a smoke, but I'll be back in a bit. If that goddamn perverted music teacher comes looking for me, tell him-"

"I'll tell him you're screwing Kimimaro in the broom closet. Again." Kin answered.

Tayuya kissed her sister's cheek, leaving a smudge of scarlet lipstick. "Good girl. Don't get knocked up while I'm gone. Oh, yeah," she reached into her pocket, handing something to Kin, who quickly tucked it into her messenger bag.

"Are she and Kimimaro still together?" Kankurou asked as soon as the vibrant girl was out of sight.

Zaku chuckled. "Only they know for sure. Say, you got a chick?"

"Me? Not right now." Kankurou's expression turned to one of distaste. "Most of the girls here bug me."

"Guys?" Sakon asked.

Ukon gave him a look, to which Sakon kicked him in the shin.

Ignoring that odd display, Kankurou shook his head. "I don't swing that way. I don't have a problem with it, though."

Kidoumaru nodded in approval. "Good to hear. You can't go through life without a little variety or excitement now and then."

"It's like that song!" Ukon piped up suddenly, "The one in that dinosaur movie (2). You know the one! _It takes all sorts… something something-_"

"Shut up, Ukon!"

o

Gaara rested his chin on his hands, content with watching Neji as he worked and reworked his sketches in the pale fluorescent light of the art room. They'd decided to eat art there; knowing Kakashi wouldn't mind since he was usually went into town for the lunch hour anyways. Of all the teachers in the middle school, he was probably the most lenient about that sort of thing.

All that could be heard was the buzz of electronic devices, the scratch of the pencil against the page and steady breath, almost a song in itself. The quiet was alive and comfortable, wrapping around them with an inaudible sigh of complacency. Gaara's eyes swept slowly over the curves of Neji's face, trying to absorb every minute detail as it was, intricate and amazing. From the sooty eyelashes that cast shadows over Neji's pearly eyes, to the soft yet strong definition of his jawbone; the smooth texture of his long, dark tresses, some hairs displaced and hanging over his shoulder, and the slight shadows cast on his arm from the sleeve his of dark methylene blue T-shirt. However, that which captivated Gaara most of all would have to be the look that came over Neji when he was concentrating on his artwork. A powerful, intense passion that impressed Gaara more than anything else he'd ever seen.

It was odd, really… how in such a short time, his prospective had changed so much…

"Gaara?"

The green-eyed boy started, coming back to reality. "Oh, sorry. Yes?"

Neji smiled, inspecting one of his hands; silver-grey graphite was smudged all over the side and a little down his wrist. "I'm still grounded until next Monday, but the weekend after that… do you want to come over to my house for the afternoon?"

"Of course," Gaara told him softly, a weightlessness rising within him, "I'd like that."

o

Though it was mid-November, the sun shone warmly down onto the roof where Temari sat, enjoying the view. It had been far too loud in the cafeteria, and she hadn't felt like putting up with people in general that day. It wasn't that she was in a bad mood; she just wasn't in that mood. And being a teenage girl, she knew quite a bit about moods…

Clopping footsteps sounded behind her, and Temari craned her neck to see over her shoulder at the person approaching. She felt small relief when she discovered it wasn't a teacher, but a girl just one year older whom she'd around a bit. The girl saw her and headed over, pushing her long orange-red bangs from her eyes.

"Hey!" The girl greeted her. "I've seen you before. Te…Te- something, right?"

"Yeah," Temari nodded, "It's Temari."

"Right! Fucking stupid me, eh? I'm Tayuya." The girl pulled a box of cigarettes and a neon green lighter out of her pocket. "Care for one?"

Temari wrinkled her nose. "Not my thing. It seems too dirty."

"Good for you," Tayuya said around the cigarette she'd tucked between her lips, sparking the lighter. The icy breeze bent the curling flame and Tayuya sheltered it with her hand, bangles jingling as she did so.

Temari knew a little of Tayuya. She was often called a whore, but Temari didn't quite view her as such. Too often were those who decided not to care what the public thought of them labeled with unkind words. She was rather talented with the flute as well and had a bad habit of cursing excessively, but that's as far Temari's knowledge of her went.

"You have music with Takahashi, right?" asked Tayuya, deeply inhaling from the cigarette. As she exhaled, wisps of grey smoke drifted over her dark lips, evanescent as the breeze came in and pushed them into nothingness.

Temari nodded. "Yeah, fourth period. I play Barrie."

"Lucky you, you're in the back then." Tayuya snorted. "Flutes are always in the front. That pig looks down my shirt all the time."

"I heard you sacked him once."

Tayuya laughed, flicking ash from the end of her smoke. "I did. Nearly got expelled for it too."

"Wish I'd been there," Temari said, coming to stand. "I can barely stand the bastard."

Tayuya gave a nod of approval, taking another drag. "Say, are you busy this Friday night? Don't worry, I'm not hitting on you or anything," she added as an afterthought, winking.

"I'm not," Temari replied, raising her eyebrows and winking back mock-playfully. "Why?"

"Cause if you want to come, there's a party." Tayuya explained, "It starts at 9, goes until everyone's either passed out or left. It's at my friend's place, just off of the main plaza."

The clearing of a throat distracted Tayuya. She turned, a smirk dressing her lips as she caught sight of the lilac-haired male standing by the door, the ends of his long black coat fluttering abstractly in the soft wind.

"And where were you?"

"Places," he answered in his cold voice, being just as vague as she herself had been earlier. "Let's go."

"Just a sec," Tayuya grumbled, dropping her cigarette to the ground and stamping it out. "Sorry Tema-chan, my man calls. See you around!"

o

Carefully, Gaara folded the piece of masking tape and stuck it to the back of the paper. After doing this to all four corners and the center, he pressed the page to the wall above his bed, smoothing out any bumps or wrinkles gingerly, as not to smudge the image. Once this had been done, he sat back and surveyed it, lips twitching in frown as he discovered it was slightly crooked. He leaned forward again and adjusted it, then once more after that, until he felt he couldn't make it any better.

That picture Neji gave to him.

The things in his head tittered, but said nothing.

The picture was the only thing he'd hung in his room, aside from a few band posters Kankurou had gotten for his last birthday. There were a few picture frames, but they were just sad reminders. There was one of Kankurou, Temari and himself at the beach when they were young, and two more like that from later points in time, but that was all.

Life before the present felt empty, aching, echoes still floating around in his head. Just figments; they had no material form.

Gaara made mental note to take some better pictures sometime.

o

(1) - Rocky Horror Picture Show: One of the best movies ever. If you haven't seen it, you must!

(2) – Ukon's referring to a song from one of those Land Before Time movies. The one where Little Foot's Grandpa is sick and they have to go get the flower. Don't ask why I know that.

**Reviews are greatly appreciated!**


	17. Slip Your Hands Inside My Pockets

**_Carousel_**

Chapter 17: Slip Your Hands Inside My Pockets (1)

**Clarification: Neji, TenTen and Lee are all 14 while others are 13. Tayuya and Kimimaro are Gr. 12, Sakon, Ukon, Temari, Jiroubou and Kidoumaru are Gr. 11, Kankurou, Kin, Zaku and Dosu are Gr.10.**

**Disclaimer:** Not my characters and some ideas are based on the manga. But the rest is mine.

**Wednesday**

"It's snowing…"

Sakura put down her pencil and rested her chin on her clasped hands as she gazed out the window of the math classroom, jade eyes alight.

"Look, Gaara…"

The redhead sitting to her right looked glanced up, pausing for a second to admire the thin layer of snowfall as well.

"It's just snow," Sasuke said from the right of Gaara. "It's not that exciting. And with the weather we've been getting it's no wonder."

"I know," said Sakura, "But still…"

Sasuke shrugged, still not used to Sakura and Ino (and many other girls) not hanging off his every word and agreeing unconditionally. It was honestly rather refreshing.

Naruto turned around from in front of Sakura, leaning across to get a better view of Sasuke.

"What do you know, Sasuke-bastard?" he smirked. "I think snow is cool!"

"It is not, dobe," Sasuke responded playfully as he tried to untangle his earphones after having quickly shoved them in his desk to hide them from Iruka. What had previously been insults between the two had turned to what could be called pet names.

"Shut up."

"Make me."

A devious smile grew across Naruto's face. "Oh yeah…?"

Gaara had been listening intently to the banter, his eyes flickering back and forth as if he were watching a Ping Pong match. His attention was diverted, however, as Sakura kept jabbing in the arm with the eraser end of her pencil.

He turned, narrowing his eyes at her. "Please stop poking me."

Immune to his irritated expression, Sakura just laughed. "Hey, guess what?" She continued again without waiting for him to answer. "I'm going to get my hair cut this weekend!"

"That's nice…," said Gaara, a little surprised and unsure of what else to say.

"About to here," the pink-headed girl continued, making snipping motions just above her shoulders. "What do you think?"

"…good…" He nodded, still rather puzzled. Ever since he spoken to her in the hall, Sakura had been rather friendly to him… as had just about everyone else. It felt somewhat weird.

"SASUKE-TEME!"

All eyes in the class immediately turned to the hyperactive blonde as he angrily lept from his seat towards Sasuke, causing Hinata to shriek. Unfortunately, the distance was quite a bit farther than Naruto had anticipated, and he ended up bumping Gaara's desk backwards before hitting the side of Sasuke's desk and falling to the floor. Gaara could only guess that their mock argument had progressed until Naruto felt the need to injure Sasuke…

"Break it up, you two!" Iruka yelled, making his way over from the front of the classroom. "Fighting, or flirting, or whatever it is you're doing belongs outside the classroom!"

Mild laughter sounded, but quite a bit of it was not exactly sincere.

Naruto scrambled to his feet, surveying the destruction. "Eeeh, sorry Iruka-san."

The math teacher sighed. "If only I could ground you for all the damage you cause in school."

More laughter, this time a bit more genuine.

When Naruto was just a baby, his parents had died and he was shipped off to foster home after foster home. At the age of seven, he ran away… until Iruka found him sitting on a bench outside a ramen shop. After buying the poor boy a meal, Iruka found out about Naruto's situation, and went about adopting him.

"Alright, get back to work," Iruka sighed. "That goes for all of you! Those worksheets are due end of this period!"

Groans resonated from the large majority of the classroom, and Iruka could only give a chuckle, not guilty in the least about the loud murmurs about his abuse of power. Amidst the confusion of everyone rushing back to his or her actual desk, Neji caught Gaara's eye.

_Are you okay?_ he mouthed, looking rather amused but concerned at the same time.

Gaara gave a slight nod in return, a small euphoria blossoming in his chest just from that small act. Moments such as that etched themselves blissfully into his being, painting him vivid and alive with the kind of memories that never leave.

Outside, the wind scratched at the windows, whispering in through small cracks in the frame.

o

It continued to snow on and off and by Friday afternoon, the ground was covered in a layer of snow up to Gaara's ankles, seeping into his worn and holey running shoes. He shoved his hands deeper into his jacket pockets, trudging out of the school gates. The sounds of chatter and girlish laughter were quickly muted by the wind that nipped at his nose and cheeks, causing the skin to begin to stain cherry and a fiery numbness to come over his face. It was like being slapped by something you could see or defend yourself from.

He did not mind all that much though. For some reason, he liked winter, despite some of the not-so-great events that had taken place in it. It was never that cold in Sunaga, though, and it only snowed a little in December and January. He never liked the city, but found it almost entrancing once dusted with an untouched blanket of starch white, like the sheet covering a body in a morgue… placid and still, though horror lay beneath.

Something about it drew him in… often he would spend hours upon hours outside, until his muscles were so cold he could barely walk and his lungs ached from breathing the painfully thin air. It seemed so unreal that he sometimes thought he himself had died out there in the cold…

"Gaara."

"Oh… " mumbled Gaara, a little abashed about drifting off. "Were you saying something?"

"Not really," Neji answered.

"You don't have to walk with me. I know way takes you a while," said Gaara.

Neji scoffed. "I enjoy walking. Besides, I get to walk with _you_. You're not inconveniencing me in the least."

Gaara exhaled, watching puffs of white-grey drift from his lips, disappearing quickly into nothing. His thoughts did the same, drifting in and out of his head, seeming meaningful one second and ludicrous the next. He felt oddly see-through sometimes around Neji, and it both irked and intrigued him. Often thoughts came back to him, thoughts he had had months ago about how ridiculous human interaction seemed…

How quickly his mind had been changed.

The wind wrapped around them again, and Gaara brought a hand adorned in a cut-up glove out of his pocket to do up the zipper on his autumn jacket; a black coat that reached about his knees, was a bit too big and made of rather thin material. It had been a birthday gift from Kankurou and Temari the previous year.

"Cold?" Neji asked.

Gaara shrugged. "It's a lot warmer in Sunaga."

"It's not usually like this here… I guess you picked the wrong year to move in. Weather wise, anyways." The Hyuuga glanced down at him. "What was it like in Sunaga?"

"Awful," Gaara spat, narrowing his eyes.

"Well… here." Neji smiled slight mischievously, reaching his hand over to Gaara. Before he could protest, Neji snaked his hand into Gaara's pocket and let it clasp Gaara's hand lightly, giving him a little squeeze that could have meant a lot of things.

o

_It's snowing, it's snowing…_

Temari hummed to herself under her breath as she walked along cheerfully. She could hardly help it. It was snowing, god damn it, what reason was there for her not to be happy? True, true, winter was not her favorite season, but she hardly help but feel elation. Besides, she was going to a party tonight; her first party in a while, and she had been jittery all with anticipation.

A familiar figure up ahead caught her eye. As she came closer she began to wave to him, cupping her hand and holding it to her mouth in an attempt to amplify her voice.

"Hey! Shikamaru!"

The boy paused, tilting his head back to see whom it was calling him. He murmured a quiet complaint under his breath, but fortunately for him, she failed to notice.

"I haven't seen you in a while," she commented, falling into step alongside him.

He raised an eyebrow. "You're awfully perky today."

She pointed to the sky. "It's snowing!"

"So?" He rolled his eyes. "Snow is so troublesome. It's cold, and wet, and hard to walk through."

"Lazy-ass. You're no fun."

"No, I guess I'm not."

She was about to comment once again on his weirdness, but thought better of it. Instead, she smiled at him and tilted her head to expose her strong, fair-skinned neck. Opening her mouth wide, she stuck out her tongue, slowing her pace as not to trip.

"What are you doing?" Shikamaru asked quizzically, pausing in mid-step to watch her.

Temari closed her mouth and turned to look at him. "I'm catching snowflakes on my tongue, what else?"

"Do they taste good?" he joked.

"Sort of," she answered, grinning devilishly, though it quickly disappeared as a violent shiver ran through her, causing her teeth to chatter loudly.

"Goddamn," she mumbled, rubbing at her ears, "I can barely feel them!"

"Here."

"Oh?" She looked up to see Shikamaru taking off the cadmium red scarf knotted about his neck, and extending his arm as to give it to her.

She shook her head. "I'm fine."

"You're not used to the weather; you'll probably get sick," said Shikamaru, glancing pointedly at the scarf.

Temari laughed. "You know people don't actually get sick from the weather."

"Just take it," he grumbled, rolling his eyes in aggravation

Complying, she took the long piece of knitted wool from his hand, wrapping it about her neck carefully. It was still warm from his body heat.

She smiled, the light blush that touched her cheeks disguised by the pink numbness that had already set over them.

"Thank you."

o

The wind ran its long icy fingers through Gaara's short fiery hair, sprinkled with droplets of water that used to be snowflakes, glittering in the pale light. Neji's hand was still embedded in the redhead's pocket, gently exploring the curves and softness of Gaara's thin hand with his fingertips, and much to Gaara's delight. He could hardly help but smile as Neji's thumb ran laps in the centre of his palm, the touch feather light and whispering. Although outside the air was bitter and cold, the touch was warm against his skin. He was almost afraid to act upon it for fear it would disappear, just a figment of an insane mind's seeking.

"Neji…" Gaara's milky green eyes darted up to greet Neji's then back down to the snow, his head tilting in the way that signified he was unsure (Neji smiled at this). "Um…"

"What is it?" Neji asked, tightening his grip on Gaara's hand.

Something inside the smaller boy made him feel sick, his head beginning to pound. He winced a little, cursing himself for being as such.

"I… was just…"

Neji nodded in attempt to prompt him onwards. He knew better than to get frustrated with Gaara. The teen spoke not too often, though there was obviously a lot going inside his head. Whether he was afraid to say them or he just had no want to, Neji did not know, but he did know well enough not to push him.

Gaara's eyes narrowed as he kicked at the ground, sending up a small spray of fine white powder. He opened his lips, hesitating, and then let a string of sound come out.

"I was just wondering if you had…" he paused there, unconfident in his choice of words. "The… used… _heroin_," he blurted out finally. "I meant to ask earlier, but…"

The Hyuuga winced, knitting his fingers in with Gaara's. Now it was his turn to be at a loss for words.

Gaara turned his face away, mien darkening.

"You have, then," he mumbled, slightly bitter.

Neji's expression faltered as Gaara's step hastened, slipping his fingers out of Neji's hand. On the verge of panicking, Neji tightened his grip, taking long strides as to keep pace with Gaara.

"I have," he said, voice heavy laden with guilt, "But… Gaara, would you stop!"

The redhead halted abruptly, his hand slipping out of Neji's and burrowing deeper into his pocket. Tentative, Neji slipped his hand away to where it dangled dejectedly at his side. Trying to keep his tone tranquil and even and his temper in check, he began, eyes searching Gaara's averted visage.

"I have," he muttered again, "Once… or twice."

Gaara refused to meet his desperate stare.

"But… It's… You can't expect me to just stop like that. I am trying. _I am_, but," he gritted his teeth together, thoroughly frustrated. "You can't just expect me to stop like that! I was stupid for starting, and stupid for not realizing sooner… I just… Goddamnit!"

Gaara shuffled his feet a little, still glaring intensely at the curb.

"You know, part of me still didn't believe you did at all. It seems unlike you."

Neji brought his arms up, crossing them across his chest. "Part of me still doesn't. It's stupid, isn't it?"

"It is."

There was a silence, this time uncomfortable and itching, making you want to move or scream or do something even though you are unable. Paralyzed, frozen, mute, it was almost unbearable.

"Gaara…" He took a step forward; hoping-praying-begging Gaara would stay put. Much to his relief, the redhead did not make any move to flee, and he dared to take another step. His body felt heavy, as if thousands of invisible bricks had been piled upon him and he had been forced to swallow another. Just the word… _guilt_… described it so disgustingly perfectly, sliding off your tongue and catching in the back of your throat to make you gag.

"I have been trying," Neji repeated, trying to shake some of it from him.

"Can we stop talking about it then?" Gaara interjected, beginning to walk again.

Neji followed, irritated. "You can't just solve a problem by not talking about it."

"That's not what I'm doing," Gaara threw over his shoulder.

"But you do-"

"Look, I'm sorry for asking!" Gaara said, his tone louder and more aggressive than it had ever been. "I'm sorry! I'm so fucking sorry… Look at this; I fucked things up, again." Gaara pressed his index and middle fingers to his temple, rubbing in small circles as he closed his eyes and continued to mutter under his breath to himself, his voice low and hoarse. "Damn. Look what I did… You stupid, worthless…"

He stopped as he felt Neji's arms wrap strongly around him, words sticking in his throat. Neji said not a word, adjusting his hold so it was loose, but enough to hold Gaara to him.

"What are you doing?" murmured Gaara after a moment, eyes staring almost blankly ahead. "You're…. Why are you doing that?"

"Stop," said Neji. "Okay? This isn't getting us anywhere. You're not… you… I don't get you sometimes."

"I don't blame you," Gaara said, as if it were risible. "I don't get me sometimes."

"That's not what I-"

"I know, I know." He shook his head, expression pained. He felt Neji's now-cold fingers embed themselves in his hair affectionately, small droplets of melted snowflakes clinging to the vermillion-scarlet strands. Part of him wanted to push Neji away from him and tell him not to get close. _People get hurt when they get close to me… People around me aren't happy…_ But he knew Neji would object to that, and he was trying to avoid making things any more complicated.

_He's right_, Gaara thought as he smirked inwardly. _I do keep it all inside of me… But…_

_I just don't want to make things any worse._

"Things will get better. I'll get off it," Neji said in tight whisper, "I promise I will. I promise."

Gaara tipped back on his heels, letting Neji hold him, though the touch seemed somehow distant and far off. Closing his eyes, he tried to drown out the things raging in his head that were just getting worse and worse by the day. His curled his fingers into a fist, his short nails biting into the palm of his hand sharply like the teeth of a small but vicious animal.

"I know," he repeated, giving a slight nod.

Though what bothered him most was how even though Neji's arms were wrapped close around him, the warmth refused to return.

o

_You stupid, worthless piece of shit. Look what you did. You fucked up again. It's all your fault! It always is. Why the Hell do you keep trying anyways? It's not like things will ever change!_

_Selfish little fuck!_

Eyes glazed, he stared at the ceiling, teeth mashing and tearing at his lip.

_You're such an idiot for even believing things could ever be different. Not with you. You'll always be a self-centered little bastard, and you deserve every ounce of pain you feel and more and don't dare think otherwise!_

_(Daddy, don't)_

The taste of blood leaked into his mouth.

_Do you even realize you're doing it? You're so damn stupid! You're not even worth living!_

No matter how high he turned up the volume on the headphones he wore, he could still hear it.

_Don't say you're sorry, I know you're not. You'll just do it again anyways, so what good does sorry do? It does nothing!_

_(Stop, please…)_

_Stop? Why should I stop? It's true, isn't it? You know it is, and that's why can't even-_

"Gaara."

_-look people in the eye. You pretend you're scared and helpless, but you know exactly what it is you're doing, you dumb-ass bitch! Look me in the eye and say you're sorry! Come on!_

_(I'm sorry!)_

_Say it like you mean it._

"Hey, Gaara."

His eyes remained glued on the ceiling, completely lost inside of himself.

_(I'm sorry! I'm sorry!)_

_I don't know why I even bother with you…_

He tore another strip of thin flesh from his lip, tongue running over the raw underneaths.

_(… I don't know why I can stand myself sometimes…)_

"Gaara!"

Kankurou yanked the earphones from Gaara's head, grinning at his younger brother who had sat up abruptly, looking spooked.

"Come on, time for dinner," said Kankurou.

"I'm not hungry," Gaara said, lying back down.

"Yes you are," insisted Kankurou, looking worried. "Let's go."

"I don't feel well, I'll eat something later."

Kankurou crouched down in front of his brother, narrowing his eyes. "What's up, pipsqueak?"

"Nothing," Gaara said insistently, glancing away.

Giving a dramatic sigh, the elder of the two stood and made his way to the door, sending Gaara a wink and a horrendous "I'll be back," Arnold Schwarzenegger impersonator. He appeared again a minute later, this time with two plates full of food and utensils. He set one down on the bed in front of Gaara and the other on his lap, as he sat down on the edge of the mattress.

"Eat," he said.

Gaara glared back. "I told you, I'm not hungry."

"Look, Temari's already worried, and if you don't eat she'll get your case, and I don't think you want that," Kankurou tried.

"I'm not hungry," Gaara repeated, reaching for the headphones that were actually Kankurou's and currently blaring Dir en Grey's Obscure.

Kankurou pushed the redhead's hand away. "Don't be starting in with this again, Gaara."

"Starting in with what?" Gaara snapped.

"Not eating!" Kankurou responded angrily. "You've done it before; I know you have, and it wasn't just when Dad wouldn't let you! So I am going to sit here with you until you eat _something_!"

Gaara averted his eyes, but still made no move to touch the food.

"Gaara, you're thin as can be. It's damn unhealthy. Eat something," Kankurou urged.

Reluctantly, Gaara picked up the fork and stabbed at his mashed potatoes.

"I put some salt on them," the elder continued, "I know you like them that way."

Gaara swallowed, hoping his stomach would accept the food and in his still-upset state, he would not end up just throwing it all up later.

"Thank you."

"No problem, pipsqueak."

Eventually, Kankurou made his way back to the kitchen with one empty plate and one half-empty one. Temari glanced up from the sink, one eyebrow raised.

"What was that about?"

"Brotherly bonding over mashed potatoes."

"Why don't I believe you?"

Kankurou stretched his arms out in front of him, cracking his knuckles (Temari flinched) and glancing at the clock. "We gotta go in an hour or two, eh?"

"Go where?" Mariko asked from the island, where she was pouring over a stack of bills.

"A friend's having a party," Kankurou said casually.

Their caretaker glanced from one to the other suspiciously.

Kankurou grinned. "Don't worry; it's not gonna be one of those huge house parties where everyone's drunk and too stoned to see two feet in front of them."

"Fine. But don't drink, don't do drugs, don't do anything illegal, and don't get back too late. You," she pointed at Temari, "Don't get pregnant, and you," she turned to Kankurou, "Don't get anyone pregnant. Got me?"

"Yes ma'am," they responded in unison.

"Good," she said, going back to her bills. "I have a trial yoga class to go to in a bit, and then my friends and I are probably going out on the town until an ungodly hour, so I expect you to be home before me."

"That leaves Gaara all on his own," Temari noted, wiping her sud-covered hands off with a towel. "Kankurou, take over for a bit."

"What? No way! I don't do dishes!"

Ignoring him, Temari sauntered over to the room Gaara and Kankurou shared, poking her head in.

"Gaara?"

Her brother was once again laying stomach-up on the bed, eyes half-closed. He took off his headphones as she came in, though the heavy music could still be heard rather clearly.

"Hey, we're all going to be out for the evening, so you're going to be on your own," Temari explained, "Okay?"

He nodded indifferently.

"Hey…" she frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Leave him alone, Temari!" Kankurou called from the kitchen.

The blonde's eyes glanced worriedly at her brother, but decided against intrusion. She shut the door quietly behind her, the music blaring from the headphones still audible.

Gaara put them back on his head, turning up the volume a little higher.

…_oboete iru no deshou?_ (2)

o

Lively music pounded from the house, situated on the end of a usually quiet street, a thick forest lining the sides of the road, even though it connected to main street further down, with ran straight through the town. The windows of said house were alight and the bodies of teenagers were everywhere, be it on the porch, the garden or the roof. The air smelled suspiciously of booze, and smoke wafted thickly from one window as if there were a small fire going.

Temari and Kankurou made their way inside, quickly finding, or rather, being found by Tayuya.

"Hey, Tema-chan!" She gave the pig-tailed blonde a hug, directing a wave at Kankurou. "Have you seen all that goddamn snow? It's fucking awesome! If it keeps up, we might get a snow day Monday!"

"I seriously doubt that," Sakon commented, having followed the orange-haired girl over. "It'll probably have melted by then."

"Stop popping my goddamned bubble, Sakon," Tayuya pouted. She turned back to the two siblings, raising her voice to make sure they heard her over the music. "You guys want one of the shitty drinks they got here or something?"

"No thanks!" Temari shouted back, beginning to unzip her coat due to the warmth of inside. Kankurou wandered off with Sakon, leaving the two females alone in the crowd.

Tayuya winked. "Cute scarf." At Temari's slight blush, she added, "Whose is it?"

"Oh, it belongs to a guy I know…"

Tayuya lead Temari off in the direction of the coat closet, passing the group Kankurou and Sakon had joined. Kin was sandwiched on the couch between Zaku and Dosu, with Ukon perched on the back chatting amiably on. Sakon went back to a chair someone had dragged over from the dining room (where one of the half-dressed cheerleader types was currently giving a table dance), and Kankurou seated himself on the ottoman.

"Hey Kankurou!" Ukon said perkily.

Kankurou gave him a questioning look. "Are you high already?"

"Not quite," Kin replied, grabbing Dosu's beer and taking a sip. "You should see him when he's _really _up. It's hilarious."

"It's not for me," Sakon grumbled. "I'm the one who has to deal with him being bitchy in the mornings."

"Stop talking about me as if I'm not actually here," Ukon said sourly. "You're just as bad, you know."

"Yeah, yeah…"

"Hey!" Ukon cheered up at the sight of Naruto and Sasuke making their way past. "Lovebirds!"

"Actually," Dosu interjected as he snatched his bottle back from Kin, "Birds don't mate for life. They often cheat in order to strengthen the gene pool."

Zaku gave him a look.

Kin snorted. "Figures _you_ would know something like that."

"Hey," Kankurou asked, pointing at the receding backs of Naruto and Sasuke. "Aren't those two in Gaara's class?"

"Yeah, I think so," said Ukon, darting over to Kankurou. "Oh! You should bring Gaara along sometime!"

Kankurou shrugged. "Naw, pipsqueak doesn't like crowds much."

The lavender haired boy frowned. "Aw, that's too bad! I kinda wanted to meet him."

"He'd probably be scared of you, Ukon."

"Shut up, Sakon!" Ukon narrowed his eyes at his brother. "My fucking God, you've been a prick all week!"

Sakon shot him a glare, but before he could say anything in response Kin stood, slinging the messenger bag she toted everywhere over her shoulder.

"I'm off to do business," she announced, glancing back at the boys on the couch. "Coming Zaku?"

"Why not?" He stood as well, following her off into the bustling sea of people that filled the large living room. Dosu crossed his arms and waited a moment, then scampered after the two.

A small while later Temari and Tayuya, who had found Kimimaro, joined them again. The orange haired girl had linked her arm though Kimimaro's, and though he had his usual deadpan expression on, she wore a dazzling smile, laughing with Temari about something she found to be amusing. Kimimaro sat down on the couch, and she followed suite.

"So," said Temari, "where are those other two you hang around with?"

"Jiroubou and Kidoumaru?" Sakon asked. At her nod he continued. "Parties aren't their thing. I don't blame them; these things can be really abhorrent sometimes."

"You're just no fun!" Ukon remarked, hopping off the couch. "Come on, Tayuya, hun. Let's go dancing! Anyone else?"

"I guess I'll come too," said Temari, joining him.

Tayuya leaned over onto Kimimaro, her fingers tugging on the hem of his loose white shirt. "I'll be back in a bit."

He gave a nod, tilting his head back to kiss her, one hand coming to rest on the skin of her lower back, revealed by the low-rise jeans she wore. She gave a slight moan as he slipped his tongue through her glossy lips, pulling away with a wink.

"Don't get of hand," he said firmly.

She smiled back at him, though her eyes looked a little frightened.

o

_Stupid, worthless piece of shit. Look what I did. I fucked up again. It's all my fault! It always is. Why the Hell do I keep trying anyways? It's not like things will ever change!_

Gaara paced from one side of his room to the other, breath growing short in ragged. Music did not seem to be doing any good so he tried dead quiet instead, but that was not any help either. He felt as if her were about to vomit, cursing Kankurou for making him eat. The world felt off kilter, his chest aching as if something were clawing at his ribcage and trying desperately to get out. There were dark crescent marks on his palms from where he had dug in his nails, trying to calm itself down. It was not working, though, and he bit down on his tongue to keep himself from screaming, tears gathering at the edges of his eyes.

"Goddamn…" he muttered bitterly, making his way to the kitchen almost subconsciously.

All he could think of was his small argument with Neji, and from there his memory worked its way back through all the stupid things he had done, making him hear, feel and taste them all over again.

_I'm such an idiot for even believing things could ever be different. Not with me._

Everything was blurry and painful, evasive and surreal. The only things clear were the knowledge that he _hated_ himself right then…

And he wanted to hurt.

With trembling hands, he groped for the handle to the drawer they kept their utensils. The lights were off but in his stupor, it probably did not make a difference. He pulled the drawer open with more force than he had meant to exert, hearing metal clanking at the drawer reached its limit and rolled a bit back in. As he plunged his hand into the drawer, fingers closing around the handle of a surrogated knife, a small piece of realization settled over him.

He had not done _it_ for a long while… not since he had cut a bit too deep and a few too many times and ended up in the hospital for a few weeks. There were still silvery barbed wire scars across his wrists that you could see if you looked hard enough, even months and months after the fact. But he had resisted any urge since then… that or been prevented. Kankurou was also snooping through his thing, he knew, for razor blades, pocketknives and even safety pins. Temari would check on him often, though he barely spoke a word.

However, they were not there, and it becoming almost too much for him to stand.

Slowly, he picked up the knife and lifted his thin hand from the drawer, unable to take his eyes from it. He lifted his other arm, indigo veins nearly visible, though hidden beneath pale, lucid skin, throbbing full of blood. His hand shaking violently, he began to lower the knife, blade glinting in the bluish light leaking in from the window. The cold metal pressed against his skin, not yet hard enough to slit, his breath ragged and anxiety climaxing. Just a little more…

His fingers flew open and the knife fell from his arm to the ground, clattering against the patterned floor tiles. A moan slid from his lips as his knees buckled and his legs gave way, the back of his head connecting hard with the island behind him as he leaned backwards, body contracting as if someone had punched him in the stomach. His chest heaved as he gasped for breath, lungs screaming and begging for more.

In his mind's eye he could see Neji, peering at him with that inquisitive white stare that gave guarantee of things being okay, even though they were far from.

"Shit…," he hissed, tipping back his head to open his airways and help his respiration.

_What was I thinking? That would've just fucked things up more! Neji would hate me, Temari would get upset, and Kankurou would… I'm not going to… I won't, I won't…_

He raised his arms to his head, digging his fingers into his hair the way Neji had before. He tried breathing slowly, tried murmuring confidence to himself, and slowly it began to fade. The voices in his head quiet for the time being and his body calmed down, enough for him to stand without shaking terribly though his head still pounded and throbbed. He severely doubted he would sleep at all that night.

_If only for you… I won't._

o

Ukon hopped onto the wooden railing of the porch, digging a lighter and pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. He slipped in between his vibrant colored lips, and then held out the pack to Kankurou.

"Want one?"

"No thanks," Kankurou shook his head, "My Dad smoked."

Ukon nodded, sparking his lighter. The flame lit up his features against the shadows of the darkly lit porch, making him look spookier than he usually did.

"You look like you've wanted to ask me something all evening," Ukon said with a smirk, pursing his lips into an o and blowing out a thick line of smoke.

"Oh?" Kankurou laughed. "Yeah, I guess I have…"

"Ask away then."

"Well…" Kankurou leaned his elbows on the railing, looking out at the forest. "Remember at lunch on Monday when someone asked if I had a girlfriend, then Sakon asked if I was into guys…?"

Ukon laughed. "And then he kicked me 'cause I looked at him, yeah, I do."

"Yeah… It's probably none of my business but it's been bugging me. What that was about?"

Ukon took another drag. "Well, you've probably noticed I'm awfully flamboyant… Yes, I am gay, since I know you've wanted to ask that too. Sakon always gets on my case about it, making fun of me and whatnot. Mum doesn't care; she's an artist and half the time she's out of town, so she hardly notices what we're doing. You should see our apartment though; she's painted everywhere!

"But anyways, I came home from the grocery store last weekend, and guess who I found ass-naked on our couch?" He smirked, flicking ashes from the end of his cigarette. "Sakon and Kimimaro. Kimimaro of all people! I mean, I had a crush on him last year for a bit, but that guy seems to have the emotional capacity of a mushroom (not the magic kind either) and he's dating Tayuya! But he was there! Practically fucking my twin brother!"

Kankurou gave a low whistle. "That'd be awkward."

Ukon chuckled. "Needless to say, Sakon and I haven't been on the best of terms since then… He's been a jerk to everyone; more so than usual. And it's tough. I mean, I know we pick fights with each other, but he's my brother. I love him. I don't like being detached from him."

"Do you guys do twin things?" Kankurou asked jokingly. "Telekinesis and all that? You know what each other's thinking?"

Taking another drag from his cigarette, Ukon smiled. "You know, sometimes we're so… I know him so well I think I do."

o

The front door of the house slammed shut, two pairs of footsteps making their way to the living room in what was a horrible attempt to be quiet. The lights flew on and Gaara rolled over with a moan to hide his face in the pillows, the frosty blue ice pack tumbling off his forehead.

"Hey, pipsqueak!" Kankurou said in what was very loud for a whisper.

Gaara moaned again, burying his face further into the couch. "Turn off the lights."

Temari sat down beside him, resting a comforting hand on his back. "Headache?"

He responded with a nod.

"Why are you in here?" Kankurou asked.

"It's colder in here," Gaara grumbled.

Temari gave a sigh, picking up the ice pack, which was no longer living up to its name. "Here, I'll get you a new one."

The blonde stretched her tired body as she stood, walking wearily to the kitchen.

_Man, I need a bath… I feel filthy_, she thought as she strode over to the refrigerator, stopping abruptly, eyes widening as she caught sight of the knife lying on the floor, the drawer still hanging half-open.

End Chapter 17

(1) The title of this chapter is a line from a Tegan and Sara song, that being _And Darling (this thing that breaks me heart)_ which is a rather true and lovely little song. Their music has a large influence on my writing. Yes, the lyrics are insightful to the chapter; go look them up if you wish.

(2) This is a lyric clip from the song Gaara was listening to, meaning 'You remember, don't you?' Don't tell ff(dot)net. Kyo's lyrics are also an inspiration to me (he's a fucking genious).


	18. Pomegranate Stains don't you dare

_**Carousel**_

Chapter 18: Pomegranate Stains (don't you dare)

**AN:** This chapter was difficult! I had an argument with my spell check over whether unexpecting is a word (I think it should be). Rating was changed to M, and I got to have fun with free-verse.

**HAPPY 200 REVIEWS! **Congrats to Lady Samurai, reviewer 200! (throws edible confetti)

**Disclaimer:** blah blah blah (Naruto isn't mine. I'm just an evil person with no hobbies)

_Red, red, red, pouring from his veins… such a pretty sight._

_Pretty slits all through the white, let it seep out, seep in…_

_He closed his eyes, shuddering, and still able to see the image he had conjured in his head. Not real, no, but he could almost feel, smell, taste it dripping from his skin so thickly, all red red red and beautiful._

_His pale arms were unmarred, keeping it inside, but something made him feel delightfully sick at the thought._

_All that disgustingly lovely redness…_

o

"You have your own apartment? Cool!"

Sasuke shook his head, quietly locking the door behind himself and Naruto. The apartment was small, consisting of a kitchen/living room area, two bedrooms and a bathroom, decorated in a rather mismatched fashion.

"Keep it down, would you?" he muttered, "I don't live here alone, you moron, I-"

"Sasuke?"

The raven-haired boy closed his eyes and let out an irritated sigh before turning to the doorway of the first bedroom, where the eighteen-year old Itachi stood, holding his long mussed bangs out of his face with one slender hand. Wearing only a loose black T-shirt and plaid sleep pants, he looked from one boy to the other with slight confusion.

"Naruto's staying the night," Sasuke said simply. "Don't worry, we're not going to fuck or anything and keep you awake." (Naruto's cheeks tinged magenta at the comment.)

"Where were you?" the older boy asked, giving the bemused Naruto a congenial nod beforehand.

Sasuke kicked off his shoes, narrowing his eyes. "We were out."

"Sasuke, it's-"

"I know, _I know_," said Sasuke, cutting his older brother off. He turned to Naruto. "Come on, we're sleeping in my room."

Naruto gave a wide grin. "Oh, heh, I forgot my-"

"You can borrow some of mine," Sasuke muttered in a tone that blatantly portrayed the fact that he had no want to continue the conversation, or any conversation for that matter, with Itachi present. He made his way past his brother and through the door on the left, labeled 'Sasuke' with a slanted piece of duct tape, peeling off at the edges. Naruto quickly followed, hearing Itachi sigh in manner that almost seemed like he were giving up. On what, well, Naruto could guess.

The blonde found the younger Uchiha lying on a pile of mattresses laying in the corner of the surprisingly clean room, posters and the like tacked abstractly onto the so-blue-it-was-almost-black walls. Two of the mattresses had been removed from the pile and placed beside the others, which was where, Naruto figured, he would be sleeping for the night.

"So," he started, making his way over to his irked boyfriend, "that was your brother, eh? He looks like you, only… older. And girlier."

"Don't say that…" Sasuke groaned, rolling over to put his face in the pillow. "That he looks like me."

Ever persistent (and even more so due to the high he had obtained during the party they had just been to), Naruto sat down on the pile of mattresses, leaning over Sasuke. "Why not? It's true, ain't it?"

Sasuke grumbled an inaudible answer.

"Don't be such a prick, Sasuke. Come on, tell me."

Sasuke lifted himself from the bed, eyes slightly bloodshot, and gave Naruto a long hard look.

"It doesn't matter, dobe."

"Don't-" But before Naruto could say anything more, Sasuke leaned forwards a little and placed a light yet driving and almost unreadable kiss on Naruto's mouth, his fine dark hairs brushing against Naruto's boyish cheeks. The blonde placed one hand on the back of Sasuke's pale neck and the other between his shoulder blades, giving Sasuke a gentle, comforting kiss back before pulling away. Sasuke stared down at his legs, almost ashamed, as he avoided Naruto's accusative, curious looks from beneath his shaggy bangs.

"I hate you, sometimes," Sasuke murmured with a smile, lying down on his unmade bed once again. "You and your stupid… Naruto-ness."

"Well you and your stupid 'I'm-so-cool' gothic Sasuke-ness isn't so fun to hang around sometimes either," Naruto told him, lowering his body on the mattress beside Sasuke.

"I know," said Sasuke, shifting over to the wall to make more room for Naruto, "just… don't talk about my brother. Please?"

Naruto ran his eyes over Sasuke, contemplating pestering him further. However he decided against it, due to the way the teen's black eyes looked almost vulnerable at that moment, the light layer of eyeliner he wore (and Naruto teased him for wearing often) smudged to give him a somewhat frightening appearance. With a foxy grin, Naruto rested his head on Sasuke's shoulder, pulling him near.

"Fine…" he said, "But we're having ramen for breakfast."

Sasuke rolled his eyes. "Fine."

"Goodnight, Sasuke-teme."

"Goodnight, dobe."

o

"Temari, get your crap off the table."

"It's not crap, Kankurou; it's my French project."

"Yeah, whatever. Just get it off the table."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because!"

"Stop shrieking! Jeez, you probably woke up Gaara…"

_Yes, because I was actually sleeping in the first place,_ Gaara thought sarcastically from where he lay in his bed. All weekend he had been bedridden with a migraine that even the Extra Strength Tylenol™ Mariko had on hand could not cure, though it did numb the pain slightly. He wanted to call Neji to apologize again or even just to talk as a distraction from the things inside his head, which had dimmed down to a low murmur compared to the loud scream-shout-roars they had achieved late Friday night. Night passed sleeplessly, and he had taken to flipping somewhat mindlessly through his mother's poetry book again, recording lines and verses he found interesting on separate of pieces of paper to pass the time. Some he ended up taping up on his wall around the picture Neji had given him, reminiscing about their silly little game of the 'quest' for love…

Funny how the more he thought about it, the farther he seemed to be from actually figuring it out.

His siblings had not spoken to him directly about it, but he could tell they had some idea of what had happened Friday night, from their worried looks and the cautiousness they displayed when around him. It had been stupid to leave that knife sitting on the floor like that…

"Gaara…"

He felt a hand affix itself to his thin wrist, causing him to sit up quickly with a sudden burst of anger, ready to attack whoever was grabbing him. His eyes took on a fierce and almost primal glaze, and for a moment he felt himself almost lost.

"Whoa… calm down, pipsqueak," said Kankurou, swiftly removing his hand from his brother's wrist. "Look, I'm just here to give you some more Advil if you need it."

"Sorry," Gaara mumbled, drawing himself inwards. He accepted the tiny, white pills and cup half-filled with water from Kankurou, swallowing them with detest. He had always disliked medicine.

Kankurou sat down beside him on the bed, a bit of nervousness evident in his reassuring smile. "Think you'll be up for school tomorrow?"

"I suppose…"

"That's good," he said, nodding in approval. "Hey, uh… any reason why you might have this headache? It seems pretty bad… You haven't been like this in a long while."

Gaara cast him a sharp glare. "No."

"You sure?"

"Leave, Kankurou," he practically growled, hand jumping to his temple where there had been a sudden flare up of pain.

"Gaara… remember what I said Friday night? I was concerned, okay? I don't want you… starting your bad habits again," Kankurou explained, wrapping an arm loosely around Gaara. "I'm your big brother. I'm supposed to protect you, and it bugs me when I can't. So… don't do that stuff… kay? Or at least tell me or Temari."

Gaara nodded tentatively, leaning into Kankurou's embrace.

"I… Okay…"

o

"The snow's all melted…" Sakura whined the next morning as she glanced disappointedly around the schoolyard, which was now more slush and puddles than anything else. "That's no fun."

"Oh, fairest Sakura," Lee said proudly, "Even in the coldest of weather, I promise to keep your precious heart warm."

"…That's nice, Lee."

"Oh, Sakura," Ino said teasingly, "You and Lee are just meant to be."

Sakura flicked her eyes upwards, putting a hand on her waist. "You're just jealous, Ino-pig, because no one likes you."

"You shut up, Big Forehead!"

"Both of you…" Shikamaru grumbled, shaking his head, "Stop being such… girls."

Neji gave a quiet chuckle, watching the display with an amused expression. From the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of red and turned to see a tired looking Gaara trudging into the schoolyard, trying to avoid getting his sneakers wet by stepping in any puddles. The Hyuuga headed over to the school gate to meet him, noticing his scarlet hair was a little messier than it usually was, and the bags under Gaara's eyes seemed to have grown.

"Morning…" Gaara murmured.

"Hey," Neji said, giving a trying half-smile. "I take it you didn't sleep well."

"Why would you think that?" Gaara muttered sarcastically.

"Nightmares?"

"Sort of."

"I was kinda worried about you… after Friday."

An impatient pause resounded.

"I'm sorry," Gaara blurted out.

"I know. I am too," said Neji. "Don't worry about it."

Leaning forwards, he gently raised his fingertips to brush Gaara's jawbone and smiled. After glancing around quickly to make sure no one was watching, he pulled Gaara outside the school gates and placed a quick, virgin kiss on his unsuspecting lips. This caused the shorter boy's face to take on a dangerously pink color, the wave of bliss that was swelling inside of him washing all the jumbled noise in his head away.

o

"Good morning," Temari said cheerfully, approaching Shikamaru with a confident swing to her hips.

He lazily cast an eye in her direction. "Hey."

"Here," she said, pulling his scarf out of her bulging coat pocket. "Thanks for letting me borrow it."

He shrugged, taking it back and slinging it around his neck. "No problem. Mom gets bored sometimes and knits; I have a ton."

"I'll have to repay you sometime," she said.

"That's unnecessary," he answered.

Temari furrowed her eyebrows. "It is, actually. I don't like being in debt."

"You're not in debt."

"Yes I am," she insisted. "So I'll be repaying you sometime, whether you like it or not."

"Suit yourself," Shikamaru sighed as she turned on her heel and walked defiantly away. "Tch… Women…"

o

"I fucking hate Mondays," Tayuya groaned as she collapsed beside Kimimaro at the lunch table, resting her head on the cool, metal surface. Her bangles clinked against the table as she threw her arms out across the table, almost knocking over Sakon's opened but still mostly full bottle of Coke. He quickly moved it and went back to his latest morbid vampire novel, Ukon reading over his shoulder and commenting every now and then.

"And where were you this morning?" Jiroubou asked Tayuya, unimpressed.

"Sleeping, big man," Tayuya answered capriciously. "My stupid-ass alarm clock ran outta batteries, and a certain anonymous bitch didn't feel the need to wake me up."

She aimed the last comment directly at Kin, who shrugged and went back to fiddling with Temari's hair.

"Hey, last time I tried to wake you up, you almost gave me a black eye," she commented.

"Anyways, it looks like you're not the only space case this morning," said Ukon, eyeing Kimimaro. Tayuya whipped her head around, peering at her stoic boyfriend, who had been staring nonchalantly at the tabletop for almost the entire lunch hour.

"Morning, sunshine…" she teased, bending down so her face became dangerously close to his niveous one. Sakon averted his eyes almost as soon as he had looked up at them, a scowl taking over his usually smug expression. Ukon nudged Kankurou in the ribs and motioned to his disgruntled twin, but dared not say a thing.

"Hellooo? Kimimaro? Hey… Hey, you don't look so hot. You sick?"

Kimimaro started, jerking back from Tayuya a small bit.

"Stop that," he said, looking away.

She frowned in displeasure and rested a hand on his elbow, which was trembling minutely along with the rest of his frail body. "C'mon, I'm just worried for your goddamn health… you don't look good."

"I said _stop_, Tayuya," he said, standing up abruptly.

"Fine! Goddamnit!" The orange-haired girl exclaimed as she withdrew her hand, sinking back into her seat as if she had been reproached physically as well. She began to play with the multicolored bangles covering her forearms, careful to keep their melodious clinking in a hush.

"Actually, she's right," Sakon said quietly, the scowl on his face replaced with a look of concern. "Kimimaro."

"I'm fine," Kimimaro said in response, taking taut steps away. "I'm… just going out to get some air."

Sakon have a testy sigh, quickly dog-earing the corner of his page and snapping his book shut. He shoved it into his backpack and slung it over his shoulder, rising to his feet.

"You can have the rest of my lunch, Kankurou," he said as he began away.

"Umm… thanks?"

Ukon caught hold of the fraying hem of Sakon's T-shirt firmly, holding him back. "And where are _you_ going?"

"After Kimimaro," Sakon answered coldly, meeting Ukon's insistent glare head on. No one seemed to notice except Kankurou, as Kin, Dosu and Zaku had started bickering again and were beginning in on creative death threats (Jiroubou and Kidoumaru were debating between breaking them up and continuing to watch) and Temari had taken it upon herself to cheer up Tayuya. A quiet moment passed between the twins before Ukon lowered his hand from his brother's shirt and Sakon swiveled quickly around, stalking out of the cafeteria.

"Idiot," Ukon muttered as he went back to stabbing his fries with his fork.

Kankurou rested his painted chin on his hand laxly, eyes following Sakon as he departed. "Ukon… why did you let him go?"

With tired eyes, Ukon just laughed.

o

**Thursday night**

_Useless, worthless son of a-_

(Stop it.)

_Don't' you dare look at me like that again, you-_

(Stop it!)

There was the sound of rubber scraping against pavement as Gaara stumbled over the sidewalk, able to regain his balance before falling face first onto the ground. He took a second to recompose himself, breathing in gulps of cold November air, thick with a humid stillness that was somehow haunting and calming at the same time. Every now and the wind would pick up and toss about viciously for a short while before dying down again.

Restless in his bedroom, Gaara had decided to take a short walk before dinner. As opposed to the usual route he took by the playground and around that area, he had gone in a direction more towards downtown, and had quickly gotten himself almost lost. The area he had come into was a bit rundown and practically abandoned, though he could hear voices from just a bit around the corner; clipped, vehement dialogue.

"…come on, now… don't…"

"Look, I said…"

Gaara perked up, his footsteps quickening. That voice… he recognized…

"…have that… you…."

"Yes…do… fucking rich…"

"…don't…!"

Gaara stopped still as he made his way onto the corner, eyes stuck on the sight ahead of him. He had tried convincing his ears it was not Neji's voice, that it was someone similar or he was hearing things, but the sight confirmed it. The Hyuuga had his fists clenched angrily at his waist while three adolescents stood before him; one female, two males, who went by the name of Kin, Dosu and Zaku respectively (not that Gaara knew that at the time, though). What scared him most, though, was the packet he knew contained a pretty white powder within it that Kin had produced from her messenger bag and was currently holding between her fingers in a sultry manner. This, along with the not-so-little pocketknife Dosu held at the ready, and the hand Zaku raised to the collar of Neji's shirt, gripping the fabric strongly, caused a stir inside of him, anger bubbling up quickly into his head, so loud. Neji could take one guy, but three… and the knife, it was…

"S-stop!" Gaara yelled in a tremulous voice, daring a step or two forwards. Neji glanced over Zaku's shoulder, eyes widening as he saw the redhead heading slowly towards them.

"Hm?" Zaku glanced back, smirking. "He your friend?"

"Go, Gaara," Neji hissed.

However, Gaara did not seem to be listening, his eyes hardening over. "I said stop! Let him go!"

"This is a waste of time," said Kin apathetically. "Let's just go."

Zaku gave Neji a slight shove, fist knocking painfully into the brunette's throat. "You know, I'm actually having quite a bit of fun here…"

"This is going a bit too far, Zaku," Kin said, an edge rising on her voice.

Zaku ignored her and turned to Dosu. "Make sure his friend doesn't interfere, got me?"

"Aye-aye, capt'n," Dosu said with a joking salute, and began over to Gaara.

Neji took advantage of Zaku's distracted state and kicked him hard in the shin. However, Zaku was able to keep his firm grip on Neji's shirt as he stumbled, and pushed him backwards onto the ground, pavement scraping painfully against his palms. As the Hyuuga fell back, he could vaguely hear Gaara yelling, and a mild protest from Kin, though they were out of his frame of vision. Neji scrambled to his feet, only to stumble again as Zaku's fist connect with his jaw.

"At first, I didn't mind you," Zaku sneered, "But then you had to go pissin' me off…"

"Fuck you," Neji spat, feeling a few flecks of rain land on his skin as the wind picked up again, and the heavy clouds hovering overhead let down a scattering of pieces of hail. "Leave Gaara out of this!"

He lurched forwards with a clenched fist, swinging his arm at Zaku's head, but the other ducked. However, Neji quickly brought his leg up to kick and was able to hit Zaku in the stomach before he was once again knocked off balance and down onto the ground. Pain shot up his arm as skin tore against the rough pavement. He lifted his arm to quickly check on the wound, wincing as he saw a long but thankfully shallow scrape, blood beginning to trickle out and down to his elbow, where small vermillion drops began to splatter the ground.

He heard movement before him and focused his attention back to Zaku. Fortunately, his attacker had been disabled by the knife pressed to his throat by…

"Gaara," Neji murmured, staring up at the petit teen that had somehow managed to catch Zaku off-guard and twist one arm behind his back, the knife he had stolen from Dosu pressed to Zaku's neck. Neji glanced to the side, seeing Kin tending to Dosu, sending Zaku a glare.

"I told you it was enough, Zaku!" she shouted, though her tone sounded defeated, her eyes slightly scared.

Neji paid no mind, though, as the feral look in Gaara's hazy emerald eyes had captured him. It was frightening to see him as such, muscles taut and quivering, breath coming in short, but controlled gasps. He looked a bit bruised and scraped up, but Neji could see no major injuries and was grateful for that. It was frightening, though… Gaara did not seem himself in the least…

"Oi," Zaku hissed, feeling the knife press a little more into his skin, Gaara's finger readjusting their grip anxiously. "Tell your friend here to let me go, kay? I'm sorry. I got caught in the moment. _Okay?_"

"Oh." Neji's almost dazed eyes looked to Gaara, his lips opening to speak. But to be honest with himself, he was a little _scared_ to say anything to Gaara just then…

"Alright…" he started unsurely, trying to convince him it was the same Gaara whom he had coaxed into laughter; the same Gaara who had comforted him and had somehow broken down his shell; the very same Gaara he had kissed…

"Hey! Gaara!" came a shout from a ways away, accompanied by two pairs of footsteps. The wind swept in harshly, bringing another thin shower of rain and pieces of hail.

"What the hell? Gaara!" the voice came again. Neji looked up to see Kankurou running towards them, Ukon close behind.

Gaara's head snapped up, as if suddenly aware. The raw look in his eyes began to diminish as his fingers uncurled from around the knife, letting it clatter to the ground, the clang of metal against pavement ringing in the ears of anyone close enough to hear. He let go of Zaku quickly, his respiration quickening as he took a few staggered steps towards Neji and crouched down in front of him, seemingly oblivious to Kankurou's shouts. Slowly, he brought up his shaking hand, eyes staring widely at Neji's arm. For a few seconds he remained that way, looking in horror and astonishment at the blood drying on Neji's skin.

Neji, as much as he despised himself for it later, could not bring himself to speak a word.

"…I…" was all Gaara was able to choke out before jerking back and pushing himself to his feet. Shaking as if he were extremely cold, he went backwards a few steps before turning quickly and beginning off down the road in a sprint.

"What happened?" Kankurou panted as he came up beside Neji, doubling over to rest his hands on his knees. Zaku had gone over to Kin and Dosu, who were talking to Ukon in hushed, wary tones.

Neji struggled quickly to his feet. "With Gaara, I'm not sure… I was just… goddamnit, it's my fault! I'll go after him."

"I'm coming with you," Kankurou said, giving him a glare. "And after that I want the full story."

Neji gave a curt nod, and both set off in the direction Gaara had been headed, ignoring the harsh pitapatation of hail and an icy rain slapping against the ground.

o

Step, step, step, step.

_Look what you did! _

Breath in, breath out.

_You stupid piece of shit!_

Step, pant, step, gasp, keep running.

_Are you doing this on purpose or something?_

(blood, trickling from the abrasion like)

**RED**

_What's wrong with you?_

Step, step, keep breathing, keep running.

(running smooth over his skin, the lesion beginning to clot)

_Running away again, huh?_

**LOVELY REDNESS SEEPS**

(the blood on Neji's skin, he winced in pain)

Eyes close, eyes open, pant, gasp, step.

_You cowardly little bastard!_

**SICK SICK BEAUTIFUL**

(blood on Neji's skin)

Eyes close, pant, choke, step, step.

(blood)

**PULSING PULSING**

(skin, he winced in)

_Why are you crying? It's not as if anyone cares!_

**THROBBING THROBBING**

Eyes open, choke, sob, gasp, keep running.

(Neji winced in blood)

**DRIP PRETTY SCARLET**

_You're so feckless. You sicken me!_

Step, step, choke, cry, scream, keep running.

**GLOSSY MACABRE STRAWBERRY**

(Neji's blood)

Gasp, scream, shiver.

(Neji's blood)

_Stop screwing up everyone else's lives!_

**SEEP IN, SEEP OUT**

Step, step, pant, cry, cry, choke.

(Neji's blood)

I'm sorry.

o

"Kankurou, stop pacing," Temari murmured, looking up briefly from where she sat beside Neji on the couch, calmly wrapping gauze over the cut on his arm. Her voice was just barely audible under the loud cacophony of hail banging relentlessly against the roof. The rain that had accompanied it in short bursts had turned to a light sprinkle of snow.

"I'll pace if I want to pace, Temari."

"Actually," Mariko said, coming in the room with a few clean towels in hand, "You should probably change; you're soaked."

"I'm not _soaked_." Kankurou looked agitated, but took a towel from her nonetheless and began rubbing it against his mess of brown hair. "Stupid weather…"

Mariko hung the other towel over Neji's shoulders and neck, receiving a nod as thanks.

"I would like to have met you under different circumstances," she said, perching on the arm of the couch. "But that's alright. I'm Mariko, Gaara's caretaker."

"Hyuuga Neji," the damp-haired teen responded. "Gaara's… uh…"

"Boyfriend," Temari supplied, causing Neji to blush slightly.

A loud sigh escaped from Kankurou's lungs, the towel dropping to the floor. "I'm going back out to look for him."

"No you aren't," Mariko said firmly. "Not in this weather. Besides, it's dark out."

"I don't care!" Kankurou protested. "Gaara is-"

He was cut off be the creak of the front door as it opened, the noise of the storm outside going full force for a second before the door closed and muffled them once more. A soaking wet redhead slowly made his way to the living room, arms wrapped around himself for warmth even though it had all fled from his numbed body. His crimson locks were practically plastered to his scalp with rain and the snowflakes that clung to the strands, clothing hanging heavily from his thin frame.

"My God, Gaara…" Kankurou mumbled, heading over to his brother. Neji got up as well, draping the towel he had been using over Gaara's shoulders and back and taking his hand, having picked up the disinfectant from the coffee table with the other.

"Come on," he said softly, leading Gaara to the washroom, "We'll get you cleaned up."

Gaara followed wordlessly, looking almost dazed, and Kankurou followed, hopping onto the counter. The Hyuuga brought Gaara over to the toilet, having him sit on it.

"You scared us, kiddo," Kankurou said, trying his best to be comforting. "We were all worried."

Gaara said nothing, continuing his staring competition with the floor.

Neji sighed, unscrewing the bottle of disinfectant. "Damn, I forgot the cotton balls… Kankurou, are there some more in the cupboard?"

The brown-haired teen nodded, tossing the bag to Neji after rummaging around in the closet for half a minute or so. The Hyuuga had to admit, it was a little odd seeing Kankurou sans all his Kabuki make-up. Even after seeing him that one morning after Hallowe'en, he still had not quite adjusted.

"Here, Gaara," Neji said, dowsing a cotton ball with the liquid, "this will hurt a bit… okay?"

Gingerly, he raised his arm to cleanse the small scrape on Gaara's cheek. Gaara's arm moved forwards suddenly, though, his hand resting on Neji's injured right arm. He tilted the appendage to better see where it had been scraped, the wound now covered by Temari's bandages.

"Did I…d-do this?" he asked, unable to take his eyes from the gauze.

Neji shook his head. "No, of course not."

"You… you don't have to l-lie, I-"

"He isn't lying, pipsqueak," Kankurou said. "If anything, you saved his ass from being kicked."

Gaara had no reaction to the comment, eyes narrowing. "W-what… happened?"

"What?"

"I don't remember… quite what…"

"Sssh, please," Neji said, freeing his arm from Gaara's grasp as to begin to cleanse the redhead's injuries. "I need to clean these, or they'll get infected, alright?"

"Let him talk," Kankurou interrupted as he slid from the countertop. "What happened, Gaara?"

Gaara flinched at the touch of the disinfectant, then glanced up accusingly at Neji. "You… y-you were…"

"It would be best to do this later, when he's calmer," Neji tried to insist, loading another cotton ball.

"Actually," Kankurou said, "I'd like to know what _you_ were doing there. Ukon and I were coming back from the theatre when we came across you… Those three were friends of mine and I know they can get a little violent, but they don't pick serious fights without some reason. What were you _buying_ from them, Hyuuga?"

Neji winced, looking as if he had been slapped hard across the face. "Look, I wasn't…" He sighed. "I didn't buy from them, Gaara, I promise you that. I had agreed to meet them there a while ago… so, I went to cancel the deal, but apparently, the stuff they had gotten for me was expensive and hard to get. They were upset when I didn't… I owe them about $30, anyways… and the fight escalated from there." He dared a look up at Gaara, who still looked dazed. "That's all, Gaara. I promise."

"You've bought from them before, though…" Kankurou said slowly.

Neji put the cap back on the disinfectant, hesitating before giving a pained nod.

Both looked away as there came a knock on the door. It opened a small bit and Temari slipped in, a pile of dry clothing in hand.

"Here," she said, handing the bundle to Kankurou. "You all need to get changed." She glanced down at Neji and Gaara, eyebrows furrowing. "Is everything alright? I can help, if-"

"It's okay, Temari," Kankurou sighed.

"You're lying," she said casually as she exited, "And I expect the full story from one of you tomorrow morning. Oh yeah," she poked her head back in. "Neji, Mariko says you can stay the night if the storm doesn't let up soon. She's already phoned your uncle to make sure it's okay."

"Thank you," Neji said, looking up just fast enough to catch the clothing Kankurou had thrown to him.

"Gaara and I will use our bedroom to change," Kankurou said, leaning over to slip his hand into Gaara's, guiding the listless boy away.

Neji nodded, though as soon as he heard the door click shut, he leaned forward to bang his forehead against the wall, gritting his teeth together.

"Damn…"

o

Five or so minutes later, Neji cautiously pushed open the door to the bedroom, already able to feel Kankurou's piercing stare on him. The elder of the brothers sat on his own bed, chin resting on his clasped hands and eyes watching Neji. Gaara was slumped on his own bed, knees brought up to his chest and still shivering.

"Can I sit with you?" Neji asked him softly.

Gaara nodded, but without lifting his eyes.

None spoke for a small while, the only sound that of the hail hitting the roof above them in rapid percussion. Neji's arm brushed against Gaara's once or twice, but he felt Kankurou would stop him if he attempted to embrace Gaara, and he worried urging Gaara to talk would (he almost laughed at his word choice) damage him. Finally, the redhead tilted his head up slightly, opening his mouth to speak.

"I…" he started shakily, "What did… I-I do? I… went for a walk, but…"

"You don't remember?" Kankurou asked.

Gaara shook his head in response. "It's… blurry."

"This has happened before, hasn't it?" his brother asked.

The redhead nodded shakily, taking a deep breath. "I go away… It's like…" he squinted, trying to come up with the right words. "Th-the noise in my head got… got so loud… I couldn't… I was there, but… I don't know. I was bad, wasn't I?"

Kankurou stiffened. "You weren't 'bad', Gaara, you were trying to help Neji."

"It's true," Neji added, bringing a hand to rest gently on Gaara's shoulders, feeling Gaara flinch involuntarily.

"But you…you got hurt…"

"That was my own damn fault," Neji laughed tiredly. "Not yours. Alright?"

"To sum it up for you, Gaara," Kankurou said, standing, "You came across Neji about to get beat up, and were somehow able to fend the guys off. You did nothing bad. I repeat; You. Did. Nothing. Bad. Now I'm gonna go give Temari a little reassurance; she's probably going insane with worry."

The door shut behind him, leaving Neji and Gaara alone in the quiet bedroom, the air still thick with emotion and tension. Gaara continued to stare at his knees, another bout of sickness growing in his abdomen. The week had been going well for the most part, and now this… Something always had to happen and ruin things, and he could not help but feel it was his fault. However, at the same time, he was beginning to doubt that. It was strange really, the feelings that had come over him, forcing him to surrender himself… it was as if he had stopped restraining himself and let go for a moment… and it felt… not so bad… Coming back was hard, though, and he felt as though he were half there and flimsy… as if a ghost, an echo…

He was distracted from his thoughts as Neji removed his hand from his shoulder with a forgiving smile, and lay down on the far side of the bed. He raised a hand, flicking loose strands from where they had fallen onto his face, and smiled as he caught Gaara watching him, almost like he were pretending nothing was wrong at all.

"Come on," he said, patting the unfilled space next to him. "You should rest."

Gaara dared a glance up at him, shifting as if to comply to Neji's request, though completely different words came to his mouth.

"I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Neji told him.

Tentative still, Gaara lowered himself down onto the bed beside the brunette, flinching as he felt Neji's arms wrap around him.

"I should be sorry," Neji whispered. "I should be thanking you."

"But I-"

"Sssh." Neji placed a kiss on Gaara's forehead, drawing the boy closer to him. The redhead's temple rested on Neji's shoulder, warmth seeping in where Neji's body touched his. He allowed himself to close his eyes, body slowly relaxing from its tense, on edge state. He let his breathing slow, let himself feel safe, warm and protected, let himself stop hating himself entirely for a moment, and found it contagious. He snuggled into Neji's chest, effortlessly snapping the restraints he before had put on himself, if only for that moment.

Outside, the hail continued rapping against the roof, the light dusting of snow scattered over the ground beginning to melt.

End chapter 18


	19. Damage Unpretty

**_Carousel_**

Chapter 19: Damage Unpretty

I apologize for the vast amounts of subplots present in this chapter. Thanks to all you wonderful reviewers.

I would like to note that this is (I think) the first fic of mine that includes Sasuke and Itachi in a non-incestful-implicated-at-all way. I can't help it; I like uchihacest. But I decided it wouldn't work well in this one. (Shameless plug: if you do like uchihacest, or just Itachi and Sasuke in general, check out my C2 list!)

**Disclaimer:** No profit for me.

A haze of morning light drifted in through the window. Water dripped from the eavestroughes outside in uneven rhythms onto the light layer of snow covering the ground below, already starting to melt away. The sun was hovering above the horizon with scattered colour-stained clouds lazily blanketing it, though some rays still managed to escape and flood through the pane of glass to warm the bedroom, though coldness still clung to the toes of those inhabiting the room.

Neji stared at the redhead curled up beside him with heavy-lidded eyes, his fingers playing mindlessly with Gaara's hair. Though his sleep had been long and deep, his body still begged to stay in bed, if only for a few more minutes. Thoughts of school had fled his mind completely and he was quite content right there, his eyes tracing the contours of Gaara's face and wishing he had his camera, or a pencil and paper to sketch with. He almost considered getting up to grab the pen sitting on the dresser and a piece of scrap paper lying on the floor, but he did not want to risk waking Gaara.

His mind wandered aimlessly, quietly commenting how similar their current predicament was to that of lovers in movies and such. A blush darted over his cheeks soon after as he dismissed the thought. It wasn't like what his mind implicated; clothing still separated their bodies, and the reason they were curled so close was that Gaara had needed comforting that Neji wanted to give. Still, this was the second time he had woken up pressed close to Gaara in a bed, and admittedly, he liked the experience quite a bit.

He looked up abruptly as the door creaked open, scuttling over so his body and Gaara's weren't so close.

"Oh good, you're awake." A muss-haired Kankurou walked into the room, still clad in his pajamas. "I was hoping I didn't have to wake you up… that'd be awkward, to say the least."

He sat down on his messy bed, stretching his out arms.

"Where did you sleep?" Neji asked, eyebrows furrowed.

"Couch," Kankurou answered groggily. "What, did you think I was actually gonna be able to get to sleep here, with you two sleeping together just meters away?"

Another blush darted over Neji's cheeks, and he found himself momentarily lacking words.

"In any case," Kankurou continued, "it's about 7:00 now; I think you have enough time to get to your house and not be late for school if you leave soon. No, don't wake Gaara, I'm letting him stay home today. I'll stay with him, since he probably won't be feeling all that good. Anyways, it gives me an excuse to miss class."

Neji gave a curt nod, shifting slowly as to sit up without disturbing the slumbering redhead. He pulled at the dark-colored T-shirt Kankurou had lent him, now twisted around his mid-section from sleep, and grimaced t the thought of how messy he must look.

"Hey," Kankurou slumped back against the wall, eyes flickering over at Neji. "You… care about my brother?"

"Yes."

"I don't doubt that, after seeing the look on your face last night…" Kankurou said. "However…"

Neji winced.

Kankurou pressed his lips against each other, seeming thoughtful but more than slightly angry. "You've bought from those three before, I believe."

A nod, reluctant and regretful.

"Heroin, Gaara said?"

Another nod, weaker than the last.

"That's heavy shit. Expensive, heavy shit."

"A bad choice on my part," murmured Neji.

"All I'm saying is you better clean up your act, Hyuuga," Kankurou explained, "else I don't want you around my brother."

"I don't blame you," said the brunette, in an almost amused sort of voice, the kind one gets when reality becomes a bit too much and everything just starts to seem surreal and unnervingly funny. "I should be grateful you even let me stay here with him…"

Kankurou snorted. "I doubt you would've left if I tried to make you. Besides, the pipsqueak seems to care about you right back, and I like seeing him cheerful. It's a nice change."

Gaara stirred a little, his hands closed into fists and drawing into his chest. A low, sonant whimper escaped through his lips, dying quickly into a heavy exhalation. His eyes remained closed, though, even as Neji bent down to inspect his condition, sweeping his hand lovingly along the side of Gaara's face.

"Like I said before," Kankurou told him, "don't you dare break his heart. I still find it kinda weird, you know… he's always been my little brother, but now I'm not the only one he's got protecting him."

Neji nodded, half-smiling. "Things have… happened to Gaara, haven't they?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"I'm not sure, but… not good things." Neji's hand hovered above Gaara's lips, able to feel the younger boy's breath upon his fingertips. "You know what I'm trying to say, don't you?"

Kankurou eyed Neji for a short time before swinging his legs from his bed to the floor and staggering to his feet. "If Gaara wants to tell you, he will. I don't think I have right to disclose it without his permission."

"I understand." Neji withdrew his hand from the vicinity of Gaara's face. "I was planning on asking him about that this Saturday. Tomorrow. He was going to come over, but I guess that's not going to happen."

Kankurou shrugged. "I'll ask the pipsqueak when he wakes up, but I doubt it, yeah." Stifling a yawn with his hand, Kankurou headed for the door. "Your clothes are hanging in the shower, they should be dry be now. I suggest getting them before Temari gets in there; she takes forever."

For a while or so after Kankurou had left, Neji remained sitting on the bed, hands in his lap. His eyes felt less heavy and his body less stiff, but his mind was stuck on Gaara. The scrapes on the sleeping teen's body seemed not to be infected, small, rough scabs forming over the open scratches. It was inexplicable, how much he cared for the boy… Neji wasn't one to care like that. Usually he would ignore when he saw another's pain, dismissing it as a problem he had no business solving, but something about Gaara had intrigued him for a while before they met, and he was glad it had in the same way he was not. When he looked at things through certain lights and angles, he found his presence was making the problem worse as much as it was getting better. He smirked, tasting bittersweet; he was beginning to sound like Gaara, only not quite as self-critical.

Photography had always been his favourite escape. Looking through a camera was like separating yourself from the world and looking at it from the outside. It seemed surreal.

With a swift rustle of fabric, Neji leaned down and kissed Gaara's forehead, his fingers swooping down Gaara's exposed neck. The redhead's breath was warm on his collarbones, a soft escaping of air.

The carpet muffled his footsteps as he made his way from the room to the hall, water dripping in largo onto the windowsill outside.

Gaara did not stir.

o

A car door slammed and an irate Uchiha Sasuke stalked out onto the curb in front of the school, his right fist balled into a taut fist, fingers clenched so tight the tendons could be seen rising up on the crème underside of his arm.

"Bye, Sasuke!" came a shout from the slightly beat-up red car's driver seat. Itachi frowned as his brother failed to return any sentiments.

"BYE SASUKE-KUN!" Kisame shouted even louder, leaning around Itachi to wave enthusiastically out the window at the younger Uchiha. He laughed as Sasuke flipped them off and disappeared behind a crowd of kids who looked as if they had stepped out of a hip-hop video.

Kisame laughed again, leaning back into the passenger seat as Itachi began to drive off. "Your little brother never ceases amuse me. It's like I keep telling him; he's just like you."

Itachi frowned. "Maybe I shouldn't have insisted on giving him a ride…"

"Come on, Itachi-san, I was the one that pushed him into the car."

Itachi sighed, turning on the radio.

o

Meanwhile, Sasuke was anything but amused as he looked around the schoolyard for a secluded area. He never was a people person to begin with, and as he was currently in a bad mood, he wanted to stay as far away from intelligent (and non-intelligent, for that matter) life as possible. That morning had been - and he was thoroughly convinced this was not a hyperbole - pure and total Hell. In his opinion, anyways. It was bad enough living with Itachi, and having Kisame drop in uninvited whenever he felt inclined to do so, but this morning was particularly bad. It seemed as if everything that could have gone wrong went wrong. He wasn't even allowed the luxury of dying in a car crash before it could get any worse.

_This sounds just like that song…_ he thought to himself. _What was it? Oh, right. Break Stuff by Limp Bizkit._

Out of the corner of his eye, Sasuke caught sight of the usual group and turned away, praying no one had spotted his him. But sure enough, he could hear rapid footsteps coming up behind him.

"Sasuke-teme!"

He winced, the voice ricocheting off the insides of his already aching head. Curses slipping through his lips ever so quietly, he turned, tongue pressing angrily against his teeth to keep from just cracking and screaming at everyone and everything that he could find reason to hate.

"Hey! Sasuke-teme!" Naruto grinned at him, smiling as if nothing was wrong (and to him, nothing was).

Sasuke placed two fingers on his temple, trying to will everything away. Unfortunately, it did not work.

"Morning, Naruto…"

"Hey, um… can I borrow your Science notes?" Naruto asked, sounding a bit sheepish. "I completely forgot we have a test today, and no one will let me borrow theirs… I know it sounds stupid but…"

"Yeah. Whatever."

"Really?" Naruto's eyes lit up as if they were Christmas lights someone had just plugged in; he hadn't expected such a thing of Sasuke. "Are you sure, because-"

"I said yes, now shut the Hell up!"

Sasuke's coal black eyes were fierce as he glared out at Naruto from beneath his bangs, which had fallen messily forward into his eyes. Naruto looked taken aback for a moment before taking a step forward towards the disgruntled Uchiha, one arm outstretched in a manner that seemed cautious, yet almost beckoning.

"Geez, Sasuke-teme, what happened to you?" he asked, but the edge on his voice wasn't taunting or aggressive.

"Nothing," Sasuke muttered through his teeth.

"Liar, liar, pants on fire."

His eyes snapped a little wider, and the rest of the rhyme caught in the back of Naruto's throat, sound evaporating, sucked completely out of him. He would admit to himself, he enjoyed pissing Sasuke off as much as he enjoyed kissing him or touching him, but he tried not to go too far with it most of the time. However, sometimes they both ended up pushing a little too hard on each other…

Sasuke drew in a tense breath. He felt a wetness rising up in his eyes and blinked it away, unsure why it was there in the first place. For silent while he was still, his head thud-thudding along with his heart and the muscles of his upper arms drawn tight. Lips pressed into a thin line, he refused to meet Naruto's eye. He was just getting worked up over nothing, he told himself, but that was no help in calming him down any or making him feel any less sick. He was not supposed to feel that way. He was not supposed to be like that. He inhaled once more, chest expanding as his lungs filled deeply with oxygen.

"He-hey. What's wrong?" Naruto asked, peering at him.

"I said nothing."

"Why are you like that?"

Sasuke glanced up at him, eyes looking weary and their ardency fading.

_Why am I like that?_

The corners of his lips twitched a little, the urge to laugh/smile/cry came over him. Somehow, the entire thing seemed funny, far funnier than it should have been which was not very funny at all. He had a feeling Naruto was saying something, but he couldn't quite hear, didn't want to hear. Ignoring the frustrated, aggressive look on the blonde's face, he lowered his hand from his throbbing temple and pivoted so that his back was to Naruto, not wanting to face him in such a state. If not for the many pairs of eyes watching them, he might have kissed Naruto, hard-fast-fierce, wishing his frustrations all away. Sometimes, though he hated so much to admit it, things became a little too much. The slightest thing would set him off, like the striking of a match in a house doused in gasoline.

The snow mixed dirty with gravel crunched beneath Naruto's feet.

"Don't," Sasuke warned, shoving his hands deep into his pockets and beginning to walk off, heading towards the school gate.

"Hey! Where do you think you're going?" Naruto yelled, grabbing Sasuke by the arm.

The Uchiha jerked away, still not daring to look at Naruto directly. "I need to take the day off."

"What? Where?"

"_Naruto_."

The words came strained, unlike himself, and both looked a little damaged by it. The blonde did not follow Sasuke as he turned, chains clinking against his right thigh as they swung to the rhythm of his walk, as he disappeared out the gate. He did not chase after Sasuke, as much as he wanted to, or even yell at him to 'Stop being such a stupid pussy!' because the words don't seem worth it and he doubted they would come out right anyways.

o

"Where's Kankurou?"

Temari heard her soda clunk heavily as it fell to the bottom of the vending machine and bent down to reach in and get it, grimacing as her hand hit the dirty bottom.

"He stayed home," she said to Ukon, who was trying to balance both her books and his own in his arms, trying desperately not to let them fall.

"Why?"

She snorted. "Well, aren't you nosy today."

"I'm just curious."

"Curiosity killed the cast."

"That's not funny, you know? Sakon and I had a cat named Marmalade when we were kids. It was chasing something, probably a bug, and ended up getting hit by a car and DYING."

Temari raised an eyebrow, dusting off her jeans and grabbing her books back from him. "Did you really?"

Ukon nodded gravely, crossing his arms. "So why did Kankurou stay home? Did something happen last night?"

"Not to him, no," Temari answered, glancing back at him.

"Then what?" Ukon asked pleadingly. "Come on! I mean, I know that guy who knew Gaara got in a fight over Zaku and them over a deal or something, but my knowledge ends there! Come on, Tema-chan."

"It really isn't any of your business!" she snapped. "Lay off it! Why are you following me anyways?"

Looking a little offended, Ukon responded quietly, "We have the same class, remember?"

"Oh, and you're actually bothering to show up for once?"

When Ukon didn't respond, Temari sighed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that."

"Tsalright…"

They were among the last to file into the classroom, taking their usual (or Temari's usual) seats at the back. Preps in the middle, nerds in front. One of the girls Temari used to spend time with gave her a sad little expression, and Temari stuck her tongue out back.

Ukon muffled a laugh behind his hand. "Hey, didn't you used to hang out with those fake little things?" At Temari's stiff nod he asked why, hoping he was not overstepping any more boundaries.

She smirked. "I think I wanted to be _normal_."

Ukon snorted playfully. "Now, why on earth would anyone want that?"

o

"This feels so wrong!" Sakura said abruptly, interrupting Ino's latest anecdote on something amusing that had happened recently in her parent's flower shop, which only Hinata seemed to be genuinely enjoying. There were some of the few students that had chosen to stay in the art room over the lunch hour to finish their paintings before they were due on Monday.

Ino eyed her oddly. "What are you talking about?"

"Well, Sasuke-kun and Gaara aren't here, and I'm not used to TenTen-chan being gone yet, and it just feels…" Sakura made a face. "Just weird. Does either of you feel that at all?"

"I think you're imagining things," Ino commented, swirling her paintbrush around the ice cream container filled with water, a shock of cotton candy pink water dribbling down the side.

"Really!" Sakura insisted, turning to the meek black-haired girl working meticulously on her butterfly painting. "What do you think, Hinata-chan?"

After adding small circles of a primary orange to the outside of the butterfly's wings, Hinata set down her brush. "I-I'm not sure."

"See? You are going crazy."

"Shut up, Ino-pig."

"No, I…" Hinata glanced around the room, lowering her already quiet voice to a breathy whisper. "Well, Neji-niisan was at Gaara-san's last night… s-something happened."

Sakura gave Ino a look before leaning forward as to better hear Hinata. "Oh? Come on, don't stop there."

"A fight, I-I think," Hinata murmured, looking rather uncomfortable. "I d-don't think it was him and Gaara-san though… I think Gaara-san was hurt."

"Didn't you ask?" Sakura asked, remembering after a second this was Neji they were talking about; asking him such a thing would be a rather violent form of suicide, if he even bothered to acknowledge your existence.

Ino's eyebrows were furrowed. "But what if it _was_ a fight between them?"

"Geez, you make it sound like they're like, _together_."

"I-I don't think G-Gaara-san would be away from s-school because of that."

"Hinata-chan's right, I mean-"

She was cut off by the screech of metal scraping hard against floor tile. All three girls jerked their hands to their heads to try to protect their ears from the sound, though it had already passed. Hinata looked up in time to see Neji exit the room, filled with nauseous realization that he had been at the back of room the entire time, hidden behind two other students. The headphones on his ears had been a ruse, and he had heard every single word. Sakura and Ino exchanged looks before turning back to their artwork in a hush.

At the back of the room there still sat a pail of sullied water with a paintbrush leaning against the side, tip down. His near finished painting was propped up against a desk, the paint glistening where it was still wet.

o

Kimimaro was missing again at lunch. No one mentioned anything. The lunch table was quiet in an odd way. Kin, Zaku and Dosu somehow managed to start up a half-hearted argument, and Temari and Ukon chatted uncomfortably with Jiroubou and Kidoumaru (Sakon remained hushed, save a few snarky comments), but everyone, even those who were not directly involved, knew something was wrong in more ways than one. There was an undeniable tension between Temari and the trio, even though Kin had apologized to Temari earlier that morning on behalf of the other two and herself.

Tayuya, who had been quiet at times during the meal, then suddenly loud and vivacious for others, sat up suddenly, her fingers fidgeting with the tie of her blue bandana.

"Hey," she said, voice anxious and shaky, though she tried to cover it up. The comment was directed at Temari, but everyone was listening. "Has Kimimaro been acting… I dunno, I'm sure this fucking stupid but what the Hell! Has he seemed a little different to you? I mean, he never was that normal or shit, but recently it's just been bothering me! Is it just me being fucking crazy again or has anyone else noticed or what?"

Temari placed a hand on Tayuya's shoulder. "Calm down; you're rambling. Now, what do you mean by different?"

"Oh, I don't fucking know!"

"Language please, Ta-"

"Don't you fucking 'language' me right now, Jiroubou!" Tayuya shrieked, her hands abandoning the knot that held her bandana over her long, orange-red hair and slamming them down on the tabletop. "I think there's something wrong with him! He looks fucking _sick_! He acts different too, and it can't be just me! It's not just me, damn it, it's not!"

Shying away from Temari's touch as if it were poison, Tayuya shrank into her seat, glaring lucidly at her lap. She remained stagnant and mute for a while, able to hear Temari murmuring to her, though she said nothing in response.

Ukon stood, glancing angrily down at Sakon, who pretended his was suddenly very interested in his daily bottle of Coca Cola.

"Well, I hope you're happy," the elder twin hissed to him before walking over to the other side of the table and putting an arm on Tayuya's shoulder, trying his best to comfort the distraught girl.

o

Three shorts raps sounded on the front door. A muffled crash could be heard from inside the one-storey home, accompanied by a loud curse and hurried footsteps down the hall. The door swung open and a disgruntled Kankurou peered down at the boy on the front steps.

"Oh, it's you."

"Um, hi."

Kankurou stepped aside to allow Neji entrance. "I figured you'd come by. Pipsqueak's in the bedroom."

"How is he?"

The brown hair boy paused to think a moment before answering. "Well, he's quiet, but he seems alright. See for yourself. Just… be careful. He's kinda spooked still. I meant to tell you this morning, but forgot. He's done that before… gone all scary like that. Temari and I decided it would be best to tell Mariko; wouldn't want him to get hurt because of it. He doesn't know yet, but he's going to be seeing a head doctor. A good one too, that knows what they're talking about."

The Hyuuga nodded.

Hesitantly, Neji entered the bedroom that was quickly becoming familiar to him, his eyes quickly finding the petit redhead that lay on his bed, facing the wall. His scarlet hair appeared uncombed and slightly damp, hanging in messy clumps about his scalp. Neji couldn't help but feel as if he were visiting someone in a hospital, and the thought made him feel slightly uneasy.

"Hey," he said softly, nearing Gaara.

The penitent Gaara rolled over lazily onto his back, jerking quickly to a sitting position as he realized it was Neji who had come into the room. The obsidian eyeliner that circled his eyes was smudgy and stuck to his eyelashes, as quite a bit had washed away in his quick shower, leaving the dark bags under his eyes slightly visible. He parted his lips slightly but did not speak as he watched Neji sit down beside him, dropping his bag on the floor at their feet. The Hyuuga leaned forward, gently slipping his hand under Gaara's disheveled bangs.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm… I'm good," Gaara responded meekly, his voice a hoarse whisper.

Neji smiled, running his hand back through Gaara's hair. "I won't be mad if you're not."

Gaara stiffened. "It's not… I… I'm just a little…not that good," he murmured, putting up no protest as Neji's hand continued over his ear and down onto his neck.

"You've been eating then? Sleep enough? I'm sorry, I don't mean to be so pesky, but…"

"It's not pesky," Gaara told him. "I'm just not used to someone worrying about me like this…"

"I see," said Neji, pulling Gaara a little closer to him. He guided Gaara's head to his shoulder, sliding his arm down to the redhead's more than slim waist. A slight tremor ran through Gaara, though he did his best to hide it and Neji decided to pretend not to notice, feeling Gaara slowly let his body relax against his.

"Could you…"

"Yes?"

"Talk about something?" Gaara asked faintly. "Please?"

"Alright," Neji said. "What do you want me to talk about?"

"Anything," Gaara answered. "Please."

Neji nodded, reassuring his grip on the thin boy, his thumb beginning to run slow laps on Gaara's hipbone. He had never been one for words, but did his best to conjure them to his throat in an endeavor to coax Gaara back to his normal self. Gaara adjusted his position so it was a bit more comfortable, exhaling gradually against Neji's chest. Resting his head against the larger teen's shoulder, Gaara let himself slip into the cadence of Neji's voice and ignore the vivid distantness of everything around him that taunted him and made it feel as if he was only half-there.

o

Itachi raised the teacup to his lips, sipping the steaming beverage. The apartment was quiet save the random clang of utensils against plates and the music blaring from Sasuke's earphones, audible from a metre or two away.

The elder brother flickered his eyes over at his younger. "Sasuke, no earphones at the table please."

"Since when do you care?" Sasuke muttered, removing one so it dangled down on his chest, the other still going full-force.

"_Sasuke._"

The teen glared. "What?"

Itachi sighed. "If this is about this morning, then…"

"Then _what_?"

"Then I apologize," he said forcefully, putting his delicate cup down on the table. "for my, and Kisame's, behaviour this morning. I admit I should have known better than to aggravate you as such. However, that gives no excuse for some of your actions, which was simply unreasonable."

Sasuke gave no response but a near satisfied smirk poking at his leftover rice with his fork.

"The school called me, Sasuke," Itachi continued apathetically. "I know you skipped today."

The smirk promptly vanished from Sasuke's face.

"What are you trying to do? Take over for Mom and Dad?" said Sasuke accusingly, ripping his other earphone from his ear.

"I never said-"

"And of course you would think nothing of it. No, they _loved _you! Couldn't get enough of you!"

"Sasuke!"

"Fuck you!" Sasuke yelled, standing up so abruptly the chair he had been sitting in teetered back on its legs for a moment before the front two clacked back down. "You don't get it at all! You're such a fucking selfish bastard, do you know that?"

Itachi did not move from his chair, glaring passively up at his brother. "You're being irrational."

"Shut up!" shouted Sasuke, his rage out of control. "Yeah, I skipped school! So what? So I won't be a straight-A student like you, is that it? Doesn't fucking matter, because I'm not you! Why can't anyone get that? I don't want to be like you anymore! I will never fucking be you!"

"Sasuke, I-"

Itachi winced as he heard Sasuke's cup smash into the wall behind his head, hot liquid dripping down onto the floor where the jagged pieces were scattered. Sasuke quickly retreated to his room, a muffled scream coming through the wall.

o

"I should get going," said Neji, glancing at the clock. "My uncle wanted me home before dinner."

"A-Alright," Gaara murmured, shifting as to take his weight off of Neji.

The Hyuuga smiled, his hand lingering at Gaara's waist. "I guess we're off for Saturday, then?"

"I'll be fine," Gaara tried to protest, but Neji shook his head.

"I want you to stay home and rest anyways, you still seem pretty out of it," he commented. "Whenever you feel ready, we can reschedule, alright?"

Gaara nodded, a blush filling his cheeks as Neji leaned in to kiss him gingerly, mumbling a quick "Take care, please," in the redhead's ear. Gaara leaned into the embrace, his fingers clutching at the material of Neji's shirt as he tried not to be so broken.

end chapter 19


	20. Sensation and Sound

_**Carousel**_

Chapter 20: Sensation and Sound

Happy 20 chapters!

I guess this is one of those inevitable flashback chapters. Thanks goes to Tegan and Sara and The Honorary Title for breaking my heart over and over again with their music, and to the President's Choice company for making such a great caffeine filled Cola that kept me awake to finish writing this incredibly long chapter (about 8300 words). Sh-whoa.

**Beware the angst.** Whoooo. Also, **at some points, the lack of grammar is intentional!**

Thanks for reviews, and please do so again. Let me know if what I'm doing is worth a damn.

**Disclaimer:** Yeah, Neji and Gaara are like, so canon!111one eleven

_Please don't allow your voice to fade,  
don't fall so weak to fault or blame,  
to give yourself reason for an end…_

(-The Honorary Title, "Revealing Too Much")

* * *

"_Oh, the weather outside is frightful, but in here it's so delightful! And since we've no place to go… Let it snow, let it snow, let it-"_

"Temari?"

"Yeah?"

"Why are you and Tayuya singing Christmas songs already?"

The two girls laughed giddily from where they lounged on the couch, high on chocolate and good spirits (though Kankurou suspected something else was contributing too).

"Oh come on, fucking Christmas is almost here!" Tayuya said, and began singing in her rough alto voice again. _"And it's the most wonderful time of the year!"_

Kankurou sighed. "Holy crap, you two…"

"Lighten up, Kankurou!" Temari shouted playfully, tossing an M&M at his head. "Aren't you looking forward to coming shopping with us?"

"Sh-shopping?"

"Hell yeah!" Tayuya exclaimed. "I mean, what can be more fun than terrorizing the lame-ass mall with your friends?"

"Well, I can think of quite a few thinks, actually…"

Another M&M was tossed his way, though he was able to move quick enough to catch this one in his mouth, thus earning applause from the duo.

Gaara entered the living room, bad and coat in hand. He stopped halfway through the living room and stared at the odd display (Kankurou bowing dramatically, Tayuya whooping, Temari's cheeks filled with M&Ms to give her the appearance of a squirrel).

"…what did I miss?"

"Not much," answered Kankurou, eyeing him. "Where are you going?"

"Neji's."

"His boyfriend," Temari whispered loudly in Tayuya's ear, causing Gaara to blush madly.

"Well, be back before it gets dark, okay?" said Kankurou, and his brother nodded.

"I know, Kankurou, I'm not a little kid," he grumbled, slipping on his shoes without bothering to undo the laces and heading out the door.

Temari swallowed another handful of M&Ms. "I hate saying it, but he really seems to be growing up. He's not just our little brother anymore."

Kankurou nodded tentatively. "Yeah…"

o

For Gaara, being in Neji's house was like stepping into another world entirely. _Down the rabbit hole we go, Alice!_ Everything was clean and perfect and orderly, so much different from the environment he had been brought up in (shouting matches and one-sided battles that were impossible to win even if you tried- _Off with her head!- _ the world discoloured and stained, always just a little bit off no matter how hard you tried to get it right). For a while, it had seemed taboo for him to speak in the household due to the quiescence that encompassed it, as if it were a valuable painting. It was beautiful; the people, the things, even the air! and he could hardly believe that someone such as himself had been invited into it.

"How've you been? I haven't seen you that much recently."

"Good, I guess… no, not really."

(smile)

"That's alright. Come in."

Three long weeks had passed since the Saturday Gaara was originally going to spend the day at Neji's. Three weeks, two days since '_then'_, or '_when that happened'_, or whatever they chose to call the day Gaara stumbled across Neji cancelling the deal for lack of anything better to say of it. December 11 read the calendar hanging above Neji's dresser. Each month had a different piece of art for its picture, and December was Andy Warhol's Marilyn Monroe, who stared out at them with bright candy-coloured lips in mid-laugh.

"_This_ is your room?"

"Well, yeah."

"…Wow."

(laugh)

Currently, Gaara was lying belly-up on Neji's (large, and oh so cushy) bed, half-open half-closed eyes staring up at the ceiling. Neji sat on the floor, leaning against his dresser with a sketchbook on his lap and a pencil placed between his lips as he went about erasing something. On the floor next to him and on the side-table by the bed there were mugs filled with steaming hot chocolate that Hinata had brought in earlier, miniature marshmallows floating on the surface.

(knock knock-)

"Yes?"

(hinges swing, creak)

"Neji-niisan? I-I brought you two some hot chocolate, if you want…"

"Oh, thank you."

"You're w-welcome, Gaara-san."

"Hinata-sama, you didn't have to-"

"I know."

A golden cross hung about her neck and rested between her breasts, sharp against the soft cashmere black of her turtleneck. Hinata had then grinned coyly at them in a way that said 'Don't worry, I promise not to tell, I do'.

Neji had not returned her kind expression, but had given her a nod that might have meant 'I know that you won't, I trust you'.

But then again, it might have not.

Both Neji and Gaara were perfectly content in their not-really-silences that came and went between short bouts of dialogue and music from an indie band – The Honorary Title - Gaara had not heard of that played softly from Neji's stereo. For the most part, conversation was capricious and light. Once, Neji had asked Gaara is he was bored, to which the redhead simpered and replied 'Not at all'.

Gaara cocked his head slight, eyes sliding over and delighting in the walls of Neji's room. They were covered with all sorts of things; photographs and sketches, scribbles of lyrics, magazine clippings and what looked like diary entries, among other things. The desk was slightly messy, papers scattered and paint stains abundant. There was a large window to Gaara's right that gave one a good view of the garden covered in a layer of snow glittering in the sunlight. His eyes hurt from the brightness, but he could not tear them away.

"Gaara?"

"Hm?"

"You can go to sleep, you know. I wouldn't mind."

"No, that would be rude…"

(worry)

"I really wouldn't care, especially if you're not getting enough…"

(enough?)

"It's not that bad, really… at least I'm not having nightmares that much…"

Seconds ran past but Gaara made no attempt to stop them, thoroughly enjoying every one. The previous few weeks had been… well, the word that came to mind was _difficult_. Difficult in the sense that his family had dragged him off to a shrink (even Kankurou was in on it, much to his annoyance) whose name he could not remember, though he knew it started with a J. She was middle-aged and rather nice, and not once did she try to feed him the usual 'You're going through a very emotional period of your life' bullshit.

It was not just that, though. Gaara had been in and out of a painfully numbed state of mind for the past few weeks, every little mistake seeming so un believably devastating. However, Neji had been patient and kind beyond what he felt he would ever deserve, as had just about everyone else (oddly enough), and he had dragged himself through. So now, after many sessions with his shrink and many more sleepless nights, he felt the heaviness in his chest ebbing away, warmth returning to his battered flesh. And it was with a smile (one of the best Neji had seen in a while) that he accepted Neji's murmured-sweet-in-his-ear invitation to spend Saturday at the Hyuuga's.

"Hey, um…do you ever have nightmares…?"

(breath)

(pause)

"I'm sorry, Neji. You don't have to answer that."

"No, I was just thinking… I suppose I do. Not a lot, though."

"Ah…"

(breath)

(breathe)

(quietly)

"They're not real, though… that's what I tell myself when I do have them, Gaara. They're not real, they can't hurt me."

(anymore)

With a soft exhalation of breath, Gaara rolled over onto his stomach and rested his head on his folded arms. He was rather tempted to drift off to sleep right then and there, since (as Neji suspected) he had not been getting all that much as of late. Often he would find himself lying in bed, surrounded by blue-grey-black light and umbra, his mind and memory collaborating in a refusal to let him rest. From time to time, when the roar of his thoughts had begun a slow decrescendo into a low mum, he began to listen to the quiet; the void; so very empty he wondered if he were really there at all. Sometimes, he began to imagine himself deceased, just a corpse, or perhaps in a state somewhere in between living and dead.

_Maybe_, he liked to tell himself, _maybe I've just slipped away into nothing-_ snap-_ just like that_.

Yet something would always bring him back to awareness, be it Kankurou snoring, the house groaning, or the bass line hum of an electrical appliance, and he would think himself silly and close his eyes once more. Even then, sleep usually continued to evade him for a while longer, leaving him to sit back and helplessly watch whatever drive-in-double-feature-movie-show was playing on the underside of his eyelids.

Gaara lifted his head slightly as the mattress depressed with Neji's weight. The brunette had sat down to the right of him, legs crossed.

"Gaara."

"Y-yes?"

The muscles in Gaara's back tensed momentarily when he felt Neji's fingertips graze feather-light against the nape of his neck. They lingered there for a short time before traveling downwards slowly, following Gaara's spine through the material of his long-sleeved T-shirt. Gaara lay his head back down and let himself enjoy the light touch. Neji's fingers stopped just before they reached the small of Gaara's back and made their way back up again, venturing off once they reached Gaara's shoulder blades, tracing invisible patterns onto the redhead's back. The Hyuuga felt yet another pang of worry as he discovered just how many of Gaara's ribs he could feel through his clothing, jutting through his skin as if beneath a canvas stretched too thin.

For a while, neither spoke. Gaara's tongue was caught in the back of his parched throat, any inkling of thought completely absorbed by Neji's painterly touches and Neji gazed steadily at Gaara's profile with murky eyes.

"Gaara," he murmured again, letting his palm rest flat on Gaara's covered flesh. "I worry about you…and I care about you a lot, you know that. And…" He flexed his fingers, applying a small amount of pressure to each one in turn. "For a while now, I've had suspicions…that a lot more happened then you choose to let on; things that happened before you moved here."

Gaara winced.

"I would've liked to figure it out myself, to make it easier on you in a way, I guess, but I don't think there's a way of going about that. I…I asked your brother, but he said it was for you to tell… you don't have to if you don't want to, but I'd like to know," Neji said placidly.

His eyes open and staring at a place on the wall, Gaara remained unspeaking, breath deep and rhythmic.

"I mean, things must have been bad if Kankurou… and you…" A sigh. "I'm sorry. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I'd understand."

Shifting his weight just slightly, Gaara's expression remained unreadable, unfeeling, and yet its esthesia was overflowing so subtly. Neji watched him, trying to figure out if he had overstepped any boundaries, and what it was exactly that Gaara kept locked inside of his head, the lock rusted and threatening to break if pushed too far. He couldn't quite…

"I haven't told anyone," Gaara whispered, green-tinted-blue eyes focusing in on nothing. "Never… it's just…"

"It's okay if you-"

"No, I…"

Neji pressed his lips against one another and decided to let Gaara go at his own pace. The redhead took another short period of time to gather himself (so messy, so broken, so) before daring to open his mouth and let it spill out.

The CD ended and began to repeat.

"Wh-when I was born," Gaara started, reposed yet so obviously troubled, "my mother… had been sick. The illness started sometime before I was conceived, and having me inside of her just made it worse. I was told she bled a lot. Too much. She died not long afterwards… I… I killed her. That's what I believed for so long… That's what my father told me… made me believe. He loved her. A lot, so it seemed, and he hated me for taking her away from him… Hated me, just like everyone else ended up hating me…"

Neji could no longer stand the urge to contradict, sliding his hand up Gaara's porcelain neck to rest on his cheek. "That's not true."

Gaara brought his hand up to his face to catch Neji's hand beneath his own and moved them down to the mattress, rolling over onto his side so they faced each other. Neji felt as if someone was pulling on his heartstrings, tearing them and tying them in knots as it feasted on his heart. It was even worse, though, because he knew he couldn't save Gaara from what had already happened.

"My father," the redhead continued, "sent me off to live with my uncle- my mother's twin brother- before I was a year old. I've seen photographs; he and my mother look nearly identical. As far as I remember, he was kind, and patient with me. He was all I had for a long time… even then, I wasn't all that great at making friends, and I barely saw the rest of my family. But he would tell me he loved me and let me sleep in his bed from time to time, and that was enough."

_(Their hands swung and forth at the tempo the child had set. He took big steps to keep up with his uncle, a smile plastered on his face. Life was laughter, and sunshine, and beautiful things. His shadow was his best friend and he wondered how the trees stayed still all the time and never got bored just standing where they were._

"_Are you tired, Gaara? We can stop if you are."_

"_No, I'm fine."_

"_You sure?"_

"_Yes, I am."_

_There were smiles and soft words, and half-melted strawberry ice cream in Styrofoam bowls. Gaara pressed his thumbnails into his bowl to make dents, soon figuring out he could scratch his name in it. Proudly, he showed Yashamaru._

"_Thank you for taking me to the park today, Shamaru-jii."_

"_You're welcome, Gaara."_

_Hands together, a child's head pressed against the flesh that covers a beating heart. Picture perfect._

"_I love you," the man whispers, and Gaara smiles._

"_I love you too," he says, even though he doesn't really know the meaning of it, one of his favourite phrases. He just likes saying it, and hearing it said back._

_And it was as if the clouds had been chased from the sky that day, just for them.)_

Neji squeezed his hand.

"Yashamaru, he…" said Gaara, visage darkening, "one night, he got drunk right after a phone call with my father- he was always in a bad mood after those, but this time was worse. It was… I'm not quite sure, the memory is fuzzy, but…"

_(A lucid glaze had settled over the man's pale green eyes, though they were covered by his straw-coloured bangs that were in desperate need of a trim. It had been just one bottle; he had had a hard week and he told himself he deserved it, especially after his conversation with his brother-in-law. The man would call him to 'check up' on his son, and the conversation would always turn to the topic of the boy's mother. Every little word the other man said, every insult (directed at him, at the child, at anything), every memory brought painstakingly back to life pushed him a little further, and further still._

_Oh, just one more bottle would be fine, maybe one more…_

_In the living room, puzzle pieces were scattered over the carpet of the third-storey apartment. Leaning against the bottom of a chair was a small red-haired child, no more than six or seven years of age, shifting through the numerous pieces with a look of deep focus on his face. A teddy bear was propped up against the couch beside him, mouth fixed in a nearly horrific smile. From the apartment over, music could be heard playing from a radio. The tune was bogged down with bad reception, the words of the old, jazzy song incomprehensible._

_Oh, one more bottle couldn't hurt…_

_The corners of the child's mouth turned down in frustration, the puzzle piece held in his clumsy fingers beginning to bend under the pressure and the picture to peel away from the fraying cardboard. He sighed quietly, lower lip protruding in a childish pout. Then he stood and run-walked through the doorway and into the kitchen, snatching up his teddy bear to accompany him beforehand._

"_Shamaru-jii?" Gaara asked, peeking his muss-haired head around the counter he was just tall enough to see over. His uncle was sitting on one of their mismatched you-can-tell-it's-second-hand chairs, turned so the back of the chair was actually on his right. Empty bottles decorated the floor tiles below like abandoned play things, the dull golden light of a naked light bulb casting coloured shadows as it shone through them._

_At the sound of the child's voice, the distraught and rather inebriated man raised his head a little, though his hair still hung over his face like a tattered veil. His right arm rested on the back of the chair, the neck of yet another bottle held loosely by his slender fingers._

_When his uncle didn't respond, the youngster crept out from around the corner and took a few small steps forwards._

"_Shamaru-jii?" he repeated in his curious little voice, peering up at the man in the chair with worry. "I-I need some help with my-"_

_Yashamaru's fingertips swept over a page of the book laying open in his lap, following the outline of one of the figures in a photograph pasted therein, bits of dried glued sticking to the paper around it. A shuddering breath left his lungs, with which the child became suddenly aware of the wetness dripping down his uncle's face and the devastation painted there._

"_H-hey… Shamaru-jii?" asked Gaara, clutching his stuffed bear to his chest. "Are you… crying?"_

_No response._

"_Are you okay?" he continued, taking a step forwards. "Is something wrong? Why a-aren't you talking? Was…was I bad?"_

"_Were you bad?" Yashamaru echoed in slow, troubled tones, as if he were considering it._

_The child's fingers dug into the matted fur of his still smiling bear. "Wa-was I?"_

_Yashamaru leaned his weight forwards, slumping over even further as he quietly shut the photo book and placed it on the kitchen table._

"_I'm sorry… I don't want you to cry," murmured Gaara._

"_You're sorry," Yashamaru mimed, a subtly hysterical edge rising on his voice._

_His nephew nodded, frantic. "Shamaru-jii?"_

"_You killed her."_

_The accusation fell heavily from Yashamaru's mouth, coupled with a high-pitched ringing that slithered in your ear uninvited and refused to leave._

"_You killed her, Gaara," he said, voice thin and full of widening cracks. "And all you can say is 'sorry'. She's dead… and you… you say 'sorry'."_

"_I-I didn't…" Gaara stammered, unable to grasp what exactly was going on._

"_You don't even get it at all," uttered Yashamaru half to himself. Gaara took a step back, his heart pounding hard in his ears like a bass drum on cocaine._

_The blonde raised his head, thin strands of hair falling away from his thin, almost elfish face. "Your mother hated you, Gaara. She shouldn't have ever loved you. She… she knew her body wasn't fit to… Goddamnit!"_

_As his hoarse outburst withered into heavy sobs, the bottle slipped from his finger and fell to the kitchen tiles below. Shards of glass scattered over the floor as it smashed, a mosaic reeking of alcohol. A high-pitched yelp sounded from Gaara as he stumbled back over himself in surprise, his body suddenly unresponsive and on overdrive with fear and guilt._

_Glass crunched underfoot._

"_Your mother didn't love you, Gaara," said Yashamaru coldly as he crouched down to pick up the shards, ignoring as some bit into the soles of his bare feet. "How could she love the child that would murder her? And you will never be forgiven for that, no matter how sorry you are. I try and I try, but it's as if part of me has been ripped away, and you can't give that back… It won't go away, you can't fix it!"_

_Mouth slightly open, Gaara continued to gaze fearfully at his uncle. His teddy bear had fallen from his hand when he fell, and was lying face down half a metre or so away._

"_But Sh-Shamaru-jii said…"_

_Another crystal was dropped into Yashamaru's hand, joining the others with a soft clink. He had always been somewhat of a neat freak; even then, he continued gathering the broken pieces methodically as he spoke. It was just another one of his quirks that gave his brother-in-law an excuse to throw insults his way._

_Guttural mutterings continued under the man's breath, and in his stupor Gaara couldn't quite make out what they were (nor, for that matter, did he want to). His mind recalled the harsh words spoken to him after one of his father visits (this is your fault, brat), and Yashamaru's reassuring smile every time he told him it wasn't true. Yashamaru loved him, and his mother had loved him, and that was forever._

"_I-I-I…" the six year old gasped, the sound pulled from his throat as his uncle lurched forwards to catch his shoulder. Yashamaru's glazed eyes studied Gaara maliciously, his grip tightening as the child trembled and tried to wriggle away. The pile of broken glass in his hand spilled, some pieces landing in the small pools of shining metallic blood that had come from the lesions on both Yashamaru and Gaara's feet._

"_Sh-shamaru-jii…I-I…"_

"_You what?" Yashamaru asked, the intensity of his voice diminishing._

"_I'm sorry!" Gaara shrieked, tears pooling in his eyes. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"_

_An ephemeral interlude started up, filled with uneven breath and sobbing, a soft love tune playing from the old radio and other life sounds from the neighbouring apartments, traffic from the street below, the humming of electricity and the steady click of the clock as each second passed. Finally, Gaara was able to escape from his uncle's grasp, crying out as his palms pressed against more of the glass that littered the floor. Another murmuring came from behind him and he stopped to glance over his shoulder, seeing Yashamaru down on his hands and knees with yet another stream of tears adorning his cheeks. He gave a trying simper as Gaara met his now clear eyes, trying to return to himself._

"_Gaara, I didn't mean it… oh, what have I done, what have I…"_

_He reached a quivering hand out to his nephew, withdrawing it once again at the fright and doubt in the child's eyes (shredding his already terminable heart, full of stitches but still in need of repair)._

"_I shouldn't have done that…yelled, shouldn't have…" Yashamaru began, pushing the darker, guilty thoughts from himself, his voice still slurred by the effects of alcohol. "Oh God, Gaara… Gaara, please, I'm the one that should be sorry. Believe me please… Just-just go to room your room, you're not in trouble, I promise. I-I need to…clean up the glass. It's okay." He gave another weak grin, though his voice was strained and inside a war was raging that he was hardly able to stand listening to._

"_I'm not mad, I promise…please go, and don't open the door unless I tell you to… Do you promise me? Gaara, please."_

_The child managed an unsteady nod, his flesh aching with a feeling of sickness. Yashamaru nodded back and laugh-cried, "Thank you… Gaara, please go… I love you. I still love you, please now, go to bed."_

_And Gaara snatched up his bear by the arm in one hand, pulling his unstable self to his feet and headed slowly for the hall, watching his uncle all the while._

_His uncle's jade(d) eyes watched him back, his lips still bent in a disheartened smile that could have been forgiving in the right light.)_

"He killed himself that night," Gaara explained in low susurrus. "I never found out how, or if he had left a note or anything. They just told me he died; he was gone… I was in my room for a long while, huddled in my bed with my bear. I could hear him in the kitchen, struggling, still weeping and then vomiting. After a while things got quiet. I think I was most scared then. I couldn't get to sleep until early morning, if I slept at all.

"The next morning, a friend of his from the medical centre came over. Yashamaru had left him a message late that night, telling him to come pick me up for school because he would be unable. The man found me in my bedroom, and Yashamaru in the bathroom. By that time, it was far too late."

Gaara's head was resting on Neji's knee, closed eyelids fluttering sometimes as he spoke. Their hand were laced together, fingers caressing and cradling each other in innocent exploration as Neji listened, his solemn face grown a little pale. Every now and then he would ask a question or make a quiet comment. Neither teen was aware of the amount of time that had run past them, completely entranced by the touch of skin to skin, of Gaara's words and harrowing memories.

His eyelids came just a crack open, his hand tightening around Neji's. "Most of that night is blurry to me. But in the morning, there was dried blood all over my forehead… There was a large piece of bloody glass on the floor beside the bed, so… they guessed I did it to myself. It… it's messy, but it sort of looks like the character for love…"

_('He loves me' the child wept. The sharp edge pierced and tore his skin, drawing a bright red line on his forehead._

'_He still loves me… Mama loved me… They love me… They love me…')_

With his free hand, Neji swept back a tuft of red hair from Gaara's forehead. There, above Gaara's left (Neji's right) eye, was a silvery scar that he had noticed before, but it hadn't seemed all that important at the time.

Gaara leaned his head back, eyes shut and mouth drawn in a line, and Neji was once again filled with the urge to embrace Gaara tightly, wanting badly for there to be some way he could change things. The past is the past. It's over. But that doesn't mean it doesn't still hurt.

It also doesn't mean you can't forge a new beginning; take what you can and build something new, something better.

"For what its worth," Neji said softly, "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be…," said Gaara. He adjusted his position, head and shoulder resting in Neji's lap, and looked up at his boyfriend.

"You make a nice pillow too…" he commented shyly. For a second Neji was puzzled as to what he meant, before his memory brought up a remark he had made on Hallowe'en night when he had stayed over at Gaara's.

"I do?"

The smaller teen nodded with a blush and they both gave an almost inexplicable laugh.

On the bedside table, what was left of Gaara's hot chocolate was growing cold.

"After Yashamaru died, I moved back in with my father, and Temari and Kankurou…" Gaara continued a few (or it could have been well over ten, neither knew) minutes later. He had shifted so his head was still resting on Neji's knee, but now on of Neji's arms hung over him, still holding one of his hands. "My father was busy a lot of the time, working in his home-office… He was the mayor of Sunaga, after all. Someone once said the job suited him. He liked being in control; he liked having people under him; and he liked to believe both those things were lies.

"At first, I was really scared. H-He never seemed to like me when he visited, and I saw the effects phone calls with him did to Yashamaru." He grimaced. "I had hoped I was wrong… and for a while, I thought I was. I thought we could have a family like the kind my classmates had; I had an older brother who would tease me sometimes but who made me laugh just as often, and an older sister who was a great softball player. They warmed up to me after a while. Mind, I wasn't that friendly to begin with, but… some of my fondest memories are from that time. Kankurou duping me into pulling a prank on him with Temari. The time we all pooled all our money together and attempted to walk to the mall in hopes of buying Dad a Christmas present.

"Things didn't stay like that, though. Slowly, I didn't notice, but it was deteriorating. I think I was eight, but I'm not that sure, but… I know Dad started to yell at us a lot, and he went out drinking more often, but it didn't seem that bad…"

Neji winced involuntarily, able to guess the direction the story - No, he corrected himself, this is Gaara's history; it's not fiction, it's real - was headed.

"He…" The Hyuuga looked as if he were about to vomit, clinging to Gaara's hand as if to keep him from slipping away, lost beneath the cloudy, restless surface of Gaara's self. "He hit you, didn't he?"

Gaara closed his eyes again. Hearing it said aloud in open air, the secret unlocked from within his chest where it lay at night, sucking any warmth left from his flesh-bone shell; it was exhilarating and horrifying all at once.

_(You worthless piece of trash! Don't speak to me like that again, do you hear me! You're so fucking ungrateful, so fucking retarded! You make me sick!)_

"Yeah…" he whispered eventually. "He did."

_(Another blow to the head, redness blossoming on the floor and pain shooting through his entire body like a molten bullet. His sight had blurred for a moment, everything reeling, everything spinning, so away._

_Chorus of jumbled sound, cacophony blaring and pain, oh, those words in his ear again.)_

He felt Neji give his hand another tight squeeze before letting go. Panic seized him for a second before he realized Neji had taken hold of his waist and shoulders and was bringing him up into sitting position. Gaara quickly complied, though he kept his head ducked down and was growing increasingly nervous. _Oh God oh God oh God_, he shouted to his self, a gushing unbeautiful sickness inside of him. However, his doubt-worry-nervous-convulsion-inner-inkling-suicides were extinguished as Neji pulled Gaara to his chest. And one of those silences started, the kind that you want to last forever because they are as sweet as any words anyone has ever spoken to you and you don't want to breathe, to move for fear of shattering it.

_(Bang! There you go again._

_A body hits the cold kitchen floor.)_

"Did you ever tell anyone?" Neji asked.

"No…"

"Shit, Gaara, why not?"

The redhead chose not to answer, pressing his face into Neji's shoulder. Another song started up on the stereo, this one slow-paced and acoustic, and Neji hummed softly along under his breath while tapping out the rhythms on Gaara's hip.

"The first time… the first time he did it, I was just talking back. We had to go somewhere and I didn't want to come along. I tried to insist, but he just yelled and slapped me. I didn't mention it to Temari or Kankurou until much later. It wasn't a big deal… I deserved it."

_("Dad, do I have to go?"_

"_Yes, Gaara I told you. Temari and Kankurou are coming too, now hurry up!"_

"_B-but I-"_

"_Stop being so damn stubborn, Gaara, I said it's time to go!"_

"_I told you Dad, I don't wanna! Why are you always being so mean?"_

"_I told you to be quiet!"_

_A loud slap filled the front hall, its force enough to knock Gaara backwards onto his rear. The child rubbed at his cheek after righting himself, his father towering over him._

"_Don't you dare," the man hissed, "ever talk back to me again. Are we clear?")_

"It just got worse from there," Gaara confessed. "Over the next few years, his attacks grew increasingly violent, more common, until it was almost every weekend… Obviously, Kankurou and Temari knew by then, because he was doing it to them too. Of all of us, he probably favoured Temari, but he would still call her a slut and a whore when she came from her dates and parties. Kankurou knew wasn't academically smart and didn't have many friends, and Father was no help in proving him otherwise. But most often, he took things out on me. I was the worst. I was the biggest disappointment. At least Temari and Kankurou had _some_ things to be proud of. I had nothing."

"That's not true…" Neji commented.

Gaara pulled away from Neji by just a little, as to look him in the eye. "Stop saying that! It is! It was! He was right, don't you get it!"

"Gaara, stop it," said Neji firmly. "He had no right to hurt you." He placed two fingers on Gaara's lips as the redhead opened his mouth to speak. "It doesn't matter what you did. You were a kid. He had no right to blame you for your mother's death, or to hit you- to beat you up for childish things!"

"But…" the redhead bowed his head, loosing his composure. "I'm sorry."

"Stop being sorry…"

"Kankurou used to tell me that a lot… He and Temari would stand up to Dad sometimes. They'd try, but he was too much." Gaara did not move as he felt Neji brush away the rivulets of salt-flavoured water on his cheeks, glad for the touch; a something he could be (so sure) of being real. "Kankurou spent less and less time at home, and Temari tried to separate herself from us altogether. She and Kankurou fought a lot. They always did, but it was different before. For a while, they barely spoke to each other at all… That was just a year ago. And then I… started."

On impulse, he reached forward and took Neji's hands in his own _(filthy, sordid, undeserving)_ and tipped his head upwards pleadingly. "Promise you'll forgive me?"

Neji nodded (for what else could he do?)

"I didn't have any friends, like I told you. Everyone hated me. In my head, I couldn't stop thinking about it, couldn't stop wanting it all to go away. I wanted to die, Neji, and I wanted myself to feel pain as I did. I thought I might be able to wash myself clean, immaculate, somehow, but it didn't work." He shook his head. "Stupid me…"

Neji leaned forwards, pressing his forehead to Gaara's. "You're not stupid…"

Gaara glanced to the side. "What am I then?"

"To me," Neji murmured, "You're wonderful, for some beautiful reason, with more than your share of bad luck."

"But I starved myself!" Gaara blurted out. "I stopped eating for a while, but that didn't seem to work… It hurt, I mean, but it wasn't enough."

_(Light-headedness, a thick wool blanket over his mind and daggers in his stomach, twisting and causing the organ to rupture and tear. His body felt like it was breaking down, fading, slipping into mindlessness. He revelled in the notion. Escape! his mind shouted gleefully, and he could not help the smile that slid so smoothly over his sombre visage, though it felt so unnatural on his face._

_-you who are not deserving of a smile, of such things-_

"_Why are you smiling, brat?"_

_-oh, there you go again-_

"_I'm…"_

_A sneer came half-price with a piercing gaze and sharp tongue ready to lash out from its damp prison. The opportunity popped up, so willingly and convenient, and he snatched it up in his thick, calloused hands like a poor man finding a coin on the ground amongst crushed soda cans and litter. Seize it! On sale today only!_

"_I saw your report card, you fucking retard. That's no reason to smile, is it?"_

_Splinters in the back of his head, screaming. He couldn't find enough words to describe it, the misery that erupted there, pounding and throbbing, and yet all he could manage was a soft yelp as it flooded his body with pure sensation, of flames and infection giving birth inside of him, festering._

"_Why do you always fuck up like this?"_

_-you you you did this to yourself-_

_I'll try not to, he tried to say but nothing came out. Another blow was dealt to his stomach_

_-failure-_

_and he struggled to breathe, his eyes throwing themselves wide._

_Oh! - where is my repentance?)_

"It was worse that night than it'd been in a long time…"

_("Are you doing this on purpose, you little bastard! Do you think it's funny? Is that why you're smiling? Tell me!"_

_Gasp in to out breath, hands clutching where it hurts most- too much- so much, the back of his neck warm and wet with blood._

"_No… I'm sorry."_

_-is that all you can ever say is sorry?-_

"_I hope you are!"_

_And reality twists, lead from sensation to sensation by a thin string wrapped tight around his wrists, double-knotted._

"_Don't snivel like that! Your brother and sister aren't here to protect you now!")_

Neji's eyes searched Gaara's form, scouring what skin he could see for any scars. Most of them the redhead took care in keeping secret (and he did so well, always wearing shirts that managed to cover the major ones- the ones he was most ashamed of- and he always changed in the washroom for gym class, or didn't change at all). Sure enough, Neji found a narrow channel that ran up across Gaara's collarbone and another on his moon-skinned shoulder that peaked out from just beneath the collar of his shirt. Whether there were more was not a question.

Two thoughts came to mind. The first being how lovely it would be to take a photograph of the moment, which he quickly scolded himself for.

The second was, and it came bitterly to the front of his mind, why and what kind of monster would do this to Gaara.

"He sent me to my room once he was done… I just remember this aching inside of me. I remember burying my face in my pillow and trying not to scream, and holding myself so tightly I could feel those little slivers of pain among the rest of it, and…" Gaara shook his head. "You said you'd forgive me, right?"

"Of course."

_(His nails scraped at the outer side of his arm, trying to keep his strangled breaths to a low volume, unable to find the pause button. There was no rewind, no fast forward until the scary parts are over. Throb-pulse-pounding, he could barely contain it._

_Soft footsteps over the floor, he made his way into the bathroom. Fluorescent light shone down on him, though he refused to meet his own gaze for fear he would be sick right then and there. The door to the medicine cabinet swung open (no more mirror, no more me) and he groped through the contents of the shelves. Where had he seen it again? A discarded blade from someone's razor that had broken earlier that week. And there it was, sitting beside a bottle of unopened toothpaste. It was small but enough, and temptation seemed but a word because he _needed_ it..._

_He snatched it up, desperate and suffocating on himself, and without a second thought pressed it to his wrist.)_

"Remember when, before, you had asked me if… I hurt myself?"

_No, Gaara, no, that never happened because you never did, you never ever ever-_

"Yes."

"I had done it… before when you asked me. I haven't done it for a long time though! Never since then, and not before then for a while either! But back _then_…"

"Gaara…"

_(Just a quick swipe, just one and a blissful relief coursed through him. Vermillion beads dribbled into the soiled whiteness of the sink, heading slowly for the drain._

_It hurt, but that pain was his.)_

Gaara had rolled up his sleeves, revealing the satiny surface that Neji had hastefully inspected before (way back so long from now). He had been looking for fresh cuts then, angry and red, but he had not seen the thick faded silver ones, or the little criss-crossing pink ones on the side of his arm that did not look like much. Nevertheless, the more you looked the more you would see, until you began to wonder if that's all there was; just layer upon layer of half-healed scars.

"Things started to get worse… so I did it more. People saw, but no one made any attempt to stop it." He pulled his sleeves back down as if in a rush to hide them again, to put them back in the dark where they belonged. Out of sight, out of mind.

"It didn't help, did it?" Neji asked.

"I don't know," Gaara admitted. "But I kept doing it. I liked doing it. Oh, God, you probably think I'm sick…"

"I don't."

The redhead looked at him with 'You know I don't believe you' eyes.

"I kept going… deeper and deeper cuts, until it was hard for people not to notice. Kankurou and Temari found out, of course, and they stopped fighting so much after that. But it seemed like… like that's just the way things were, and it was a part of my fucked version of normalcy. It wasn't going to stop. The whole thing just seemed like an endless loop, repeating. I'd screw up, Dad would hit me, I'd hurt myself, and Kankurou and Temari would try and help me but I didn't want their help, even though without it I'd screw up again, and he'd hit me again, and I'd cut again, and on and on and on!

"Until I burst."

_(And all the words there were for it vanished._

_Where before there had been an infinite mass of little details intricately bound, uncountable strings and vines that tangled round him with all those many knots, there was now just _it

_Just him, and it; a whole, a one. Just that. A blister swelled large and shining, fragile aching._

_And with just a few pricks, he popped it. It seemed the only thing to do. It was that, or wait and wait for it to burst itself. But who knows how long that would take (damn your impatience) or how painful the wait would be?_

_It was simple._

_He watched casually as his wrists came open. Slice and dice, let it all pour out of you, away. Away, he smiled, as his vibrancy continued to flow into the sink. He heard the drain gurgle. He heard the door open._

_And he came to love that blissless silence.)_

"Kankurou found me, and called an ambulance. I was told Temari was crying hysterically for hours, and Kankurou yelled at Dad the entire drive there. I was in the hospital for a long while, but all I really remember is white walls and the smell."

Neji had coaxed Gaara into his arms once more, but his hands stayed stationary where they were and did not roam Gaara's form with touches, just stillness.

"I was in there for a while, like I said… Temari came to see me quite a bit, but Kankurou didn't, nor did Dad. Temari talked a lot, and smiled more than she ever had before. She would bring me novels and magazine, which I would read, and just talk. She liked to do that when things got tough; just talk it all away, even if I didn't talk back to her. At all. I couldn't manage a word; didn't speak for months afterwards," said Gaara. "Kankurou grew… colder. He hardly looked at me when Temari dragged him along for a visit - I think she was trying to keep us from collapsing completely - and avoided me even after I was let out of the hospital. According to Temari, he felt partially betrayed that I did what I did. Before, he had been trying to convince me not to, telling me to come to him and he'd help me, but I didn't want to make things worse for him. And the other part was guilt, because he felt he almost let me get away with it.

"Dad was… Dad seemed to be honestly unnerved by the whole event. He told the doctors not to mention anything to the rest of the town - imagine what _that_ would do to his reputation - and said he would take care of it at home. He wasn't violent for a long time after that, though. He barely raised his voice, and pretended things were normal. I felt sick just watching him.

"It was just a short break, though. He was killed in a car accident about a month later, just after school ended. When I heard the news, I wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry or what. So I didn't. There were a few weeks that passed far too quickly and then we were moving here, to live with Mariko-san. Watsuki Mariko, but she insists we use her first name. And here… here I thought maybe I could be normal, I could be okay, but every time I tried to open my mouth I choked and I still couldn't sleep at night. Temari seemed to be succeeding on getting back on track, and Kankurou just carried on as he did, slightly bitter but obviously alive. Not me though. The nightmares got worse and worse, and I couldn't help but think about all the mistakes I continued to make. But," he lifted his head and leaned a little more into Neji, "it's getting better now. It is."

"I'm glad."

Between the tumbling of words, of whispers and pitches not quite a song but close, there was breath, and he loved the sound.

_(Tree. Rock. Tree. Tree. Rock. Field. House. Tree. The blur of scenery crawled by,_

"_So where are we going again?"_

"_Konoha, Kankurou, weren't you listening?"_

_It was July, and their skin was sticking to the seats of the cramped car in which they rode because of the intense heat. Temari grimaced as she felt sweat dripping from her pores, but was not up to complaining just then. In the rear view mirror she could see the small moving van trailing them, carrying their belongings (all they had left was just things, and they loved them as much as they wanted to burn them and dance naked in the smoke and scream like animals)._

"_Oh, you'll just love Konoha!" the social worker at the wheel said cheerfully and stereotypically, all Pepto Bismal lipstick and cheap perfume. "There's a lot of nice kids you age there, and-"_

"_Bite me, lady."_

_Temari scowled, looking at him in the mirror instead of directly._

"_Look, Kankurou, I know you're upset but you're being such a child! How do you think I feel, or how Gaara feels? This move is a good thing, for obvious reasons! Don't you want things to be normal?"_

_Oh, so you're playing the little brother card, are you?_

"_Yay, fairy tale endings for all," Kankurou snorted, kicking his feet up to rest on between the two front seats._

"_Oh, shut up."_

_Gaara's forehead was pressed against the window, eyes closed. Just a bystander (more a phantom), he listened and was entranced with sound, just another one of those things he hadn't really noticed before. His memory came mostly in noises and flashes of emotion, as he later - much later- discovered. For a while he became so caught up in the dramatic banter produced by his siblings and that resonating inside of him, he was surprised when he found his body had continued breathing without him.)_

"Well, there is…" Gaara frowned, "that thing that happened… when I… you know."

"Yeah, I know."

"The head-doctor gave me pills for it. I can't remember what she said exactly, but it's…" His frown widened in distaste. "Sort of like another part of me inside of me that grew out of what happened. Two blue pills in the morning. She said it might take some getting used to but it'll help in the long run, and I don't want to take anymore chances. I want things to go right this time. I want to… I want to make it worth something, if anything."

"Gaara…"

Smiling and staring, and drifting nearer to Neji, Gaara drew breath into his lungs, sweetly.

"So that's me…" he said. "That's why I'm so… just…"

A soft wail burst shamelessly from his throat and he wept into Neji's neck and shoulders, redemption coming in the form of murmurs and kisses. They pressed their bodies together so tightly that away ceased to exist to those two, made entirely of sensation and sound.

ende chapter 20


	21. Through Cracks in the Door

_**Carousel**_

Chapter 21: Through Cracks in the Door

Notes: Yeah, I know. Finally, eh? Damn school, keeping me from the important things… Oh, that and I have like, an actual social life now. It's honestly quite enjoyable.

Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed last chapter, especially those of you who take time to write longer than one sentence, constructive reviews. Any review is nice, but those really make my day. Love to all of you, and **HAPPY CANADIAN THANKSGIVING!**

Oh, and on another note… some people who have been reading this story have been using part of my formatting in their fics (by this I mean the italics and brackets I'm fond of using for insanity and thoughts, etc.) Unfortunately, I feel some of you are overusing it, so I simply ask that you A) please cut down on your usage of it, because the effect is wearing down, and/or B) make a note in the fic that this was where it came from. If this wasn't where you got the idea and I'm wrong, tell me so, but that's just something that's been irking me for a while… irking me a lot…

I disclaim all rights to Naruto.

And anyone who can understand my simple French in this chapter gets a cookie. (and thanks to The Caged Bird for correcting me...)

o

_Two pretty blue pills rolled from the bottle into his palm, settling next to the long channel that ran from just below his smallest finger to almost the other side of his hand. He set the bottle back down on the counter, the pills still left within rattling against each other._

_Just a sip of metallic tasting tap water and he quickly slipped them in through his lips, swallowing with a look of distaste. He couldn't swallow them without a drink, else his mouth would suddenly go dry and his tongue would become paralyzed, thick in his mouth, and the bland-yet-bitter taste nearly made him gag._

_Just two pretty little blue pills. They made things a little fuzzy, as if everyone were speaking a language he only knew half the words of and time was moving a half-second faster than he was. It usually wore off after about an hour, but he could still feel it, knowing it had not faded fully._

_They made things unnaturally quiet, as if he had been placed in a soundproof room with milk-white walls. Though he was grateful for it, it all sounded fake. He knew there were things scratching at the walls, and pounding at the door. The outside sounds had just been muffled._

_Even so, it was better than the noise._

o

"So… you told him, eh? Neji, I mean, when you went over there yesterday."

Gaara looked up from his half-finished math homework, confused for a moment before the words spoken clicked and he nodded slightly at his brother in response.

"Yeah."

"And?" Temari asked from beside him on the bed. Gaara shifted a little, showing that he was uncomfortable.

"You're nosy, Ri," Kankurou commented.

"I am not nosy! You're the one who asked in the first place, hypocrite!"

"Feh. Whatever."

Sunday afternoon was drifting lazily by the three siblings, who had somehow all ended up in the brothers' room, wearing multiple layers of clothing along with a few thick blankets due to the fact that the furnace, to quote Kankurou, was being a bitch again. After finally settling on one of Kankurou's lighter CDs as background music the trio had settled down, Temari trying to finish her essay and occasionally assisting Gaara with his homework while Kankurou ignored the text books beside his bed completely and vigorously played his GameBoy.

Gaara pulled his hands back into the sleeves of his over-sized black hoodie, a light shiver running through him. "Neji…"

He felt Temari lean a little closer to him, and saw Kankurou's thumb quickly dart to the pause button.

"He listened…" the redhead managed, "and… he didn't…not like me for what happened."

"I didn't think he would," Kankurou commented.

"It was nice…" Gaara added quietly, blushing. "We went for a walk in the snow…"

Temari resisted the urge to give a girlish sigh. "That's good. I'm glad."

"Glad what?" asked Gaara.

"Glad you're happy…"

Kankurou snorted. "Don't go getting all sappy on us now… Oh my, I think I might need a tissue!" He feigned wiping a tear from the corner of his eye.

"Tch." Temari shrugged, ignoring him. "I know you feel the same way, even if you don't admit it."

"Yeah, yeah…" the middle sibling rolled his eyes, rolling over onto his side to look at Gaara properly. "Just as long as he doesn't try to force you into anything… He's better than most by _far_, but I'm still not that sure about him."

"He's _fine_, Kankurou," Gaara responded, the corners of his lips tipping downwards.

"If you say so, pipsqueak," said Kankurou, a little reluctantly.

Gaara did not protest use of the nickname, having learned to deal with it (and almost like it) by that time. He cast a lethargic eye at his binder spread open on his lap and decided he would finish later, any slight motivation he had had for doing it earlier entirely lost. Part of him still felt drained from the events of the day before, unused to giving part of his raw, unprotected self up to be examined by anyone other than himself. The feeling was still uncomfortable, but somehow relaxing, probably due to the fact that it had been Neji that had helped him strip off the layers and layers of defence he had built up over the years.

And Neji hadn't laughed. He hadn't given Gaara weird looks, or pushed him away, or yelled at him about what a freak he was. Instead, Neji had listened, and help him closer, kissed him and comforted him, and refused to let him slip any further, though Gaara did not quite get why. It was just another amazing and entrancingly peculiar little thing his mind could not quite wrap itself around, yet one he loved to ponder whenever his thoughts decided to run off and dawdle. And, he decided, he preferred it that way.

"I trust him," Gaara continued to reassure his siblings, quiet yet firmly. He was not saying that just to have them stop bothering him about it, or because he knew they wanted to hear it. The words were not only half-full, and they did not catch on his tongue and drag across the surface as they scraped out. He meant them.

They were just words - just manipulated sound - but they were his own.

o

**Tuesday**

"…that's so fucking _gay_!"

_Four,_ Gaara counted mentally, wincing. With his peripheral vision, he could see the two boys laughing loudly at their jokes on the other side of the classroom. One of them, he noted mentally, was one of the boys that used to trip him in the hallway during his first month at the new school. They were the type he despised and tried to avoid; boisterous, egotistical and unreasonably cruel to anything that did not fit their definition of 'normal'. Homosexuality, of course, was included in this category.

It was, in fact, their remarks of the day before that had led Gaara to begin his count of just how many anti-gay comments he heard a day. It was rather pointless, but interesting at the same time. From the time he had arrived at the school that morning, he had heard four 'queer', 'faggot' or similar comments already. And it was only second period. (1)

It did not matter to them that Naruto and Sasuke were both sitting within hearing distance, nor that they had already been corrected twice by a pissed-as-Hell Neji. The duo made their comments nonetheless, pairing them with peels of laughter and dirty looks in the directions of certain people.

Despite Gaara's usual techniques of ignoring things such as this, it somehow wriggled its way into his head and begun to cause an itch from beneath. Somehow, how they (among quite a few others) seemed to think that boys liking boys was just so _wrong_ just got to him. He did not see anything wrong with it, nor did Kankurou or Temari, Neji or the rest of his friends, but sometimes their vulgar comments made him doubt himself. What if it was _wrong?_

_Why,_ another part of him retorted, _should I care?_

"Assholes," Naruto grunted. Seeing how Gaara's eyes had wandered over the two, he quickly added, "Ignore 'em, Gaara. They're not worth a fight here."

Sakura gave Naruto an apprehensive look. "That sure doesn't sound like something you'd say."

"I guess I forgot to add 'Fight those bastards outside of school, where you can't get suspended'," he said with a cheeky grin.

The pink-haired girl sighed. "Yeah, that's a lot more like you…" She pulled her red sweater a bit tighter around her, turning to Gaara. "Naruto's remedial. Don't get in fights at all, it's stupid. I'm surprised the cops haven't given us an assembly yet, with the level of violence and whatnot this school has…"

"Y-yeah…," said Gaara, dispelling all thoughts of the fights he had been in from his mind, labelling them blasphemous and pretending they did not exist.

"Besides, you only have to deal with them for another three days and then we have winter break," Sakura commented, lowering her voice and motioning to the boys to look as if they were actually working on their Geography.

"Three days?" Kiba asked, poking his head into the space between Gaara and Naruto.

Naruto laughed. "You mean you're actually bothering showing up after we get our report cards tomorrow?"

"Like Iruka-san will let you skip," Sakura commented.

"Yeah, well…"

"So, what are you guys doing over the holidays?" Kiba asked for a change of topic. Sakura began on about her plans of shopping (Naruto making faces at this when she was not looking), but Gaara wasn't quite listening. Instead, he had focused in on what he was hearing from the other side of the room again, where Neji had the unfortunate of being placed.

"Why are you always defending those queers?"

_(Five)_

one of boys asked, the comment clearly directed at Neji. The Hyuuga ignored them, but they persisted.

"I bet you are one of them," the other taunted. "Why else would you have such girly hair? That's it, right, _homo_?"

_(Six)_

And Gaara's throat had gone dry.

Neji's eyes shot upwards, glaring coldly at the duo. "I don't see why you find taunting me so amusing, nor why homosexuality is so _funny_ to you."

He was answered with hardly muffled laughter.

"It's _gross_," the taller of them said. "Not natural. And anyone who defends it is just as bad…"

Desperately, Gaara wanted to say something, to prove them wrong. It wasn't just that those things degraded him, it was that they degraded Neji as well. But his mouth stayed shut, refusing to open for him despite his pleas.

Gaara could tell Neji was biting his tongue, both metaphorically and literally. Fortunately, though, the bell rang before the boys could provoke him any more. The Hyuuga gathered his things and quickly made his way out the door, his strides long and strong, clearly displaying his pent up anger and frustration.

"Gaara? You there?"

Naruto waved his hand in front of Gaara's face. "This class is over! O-V-E-R. That means we can leave now."

"Sorry. Guess I drifted off…" The redhead closed his binder and began to follow the others out of class, still more than a bit perturbed.

o

His fingers were so cold they were hard to move, feeling as if they were moving in painful slow motion as he rummaged his coat pocket for the key ring.

"We really need to get a car or something," Sakon grumbled as he shoved his key into the lock of their apartment door. Snow clung to his jeans, soaked from the knees down, and his nose felt as if it had been given an overdose of morphine.

"I really fucking hate winter," he continued as he stomped inside, kicking off his hiking boots.

Ukon followed him inside, his clothing caked with snow as well. "You think we could afford a car, even if we passed the driving test?"

Sakon grumbled something inaudible, quickly stripping off his coat and heading into the kitchen. Their entire apartment smelled of various art supplies, along with faint traces of cats and weed, the walls painted with bright colours and odd designs. Beside the postcard with a picture of Bob Marley on it that their less-than-sane artist of a mother refused to throw away despite how it had faded and torn in places over the years, there was a note in messy handwriting. Sakon pulled it from under the magnet, reading under his breath.

"_Inspiration struck. I'll be at the studio for a while. Feel free to order Chinese, as long as you save me some chicken balls! Love, Mom._"

"Meaning she's going to be practically living there for another few days," Ukon commented from behind him.

"Figure she'll actually be able to sell whatever she makes this time?"

"Hopefully. I like eating, you know? It seems kind of essential to me…"

Ukon opened the door to the fridge and leaned inside, smiling to himself as he heard Sakon give a dry laugh. It was just like one of those times when they were children, near inseparable, telling jokes none but each other found funny and understanding things no one else could.

"So, you want Chinese or what?" the older twin asked, moving some expired yoghurt out of the way as he searched for something somewhat edible.

Shaking his head, Sakon started to head out of their small kitchen. "Not really, I'm not in the mood…"

"Alright! Pizza then?"

"Doesn't matter!" Sakon called back. "Have whatever you want, I'll just grab myself something after I get off work… shit, I have to leave in half an hour. Hey, Ukon, can you wake me up-"

"Around five? Sure thing!"

Sometimes, Sakon hated how well Ukon knew him, and how well he knew his brother in return. Ukon, who seemed scatterbrained to most others, was actually quite good a being on time and had memorized Sakon's schedule, and Sakon never worried because he knew Ukon would remember.

The lavender-haired teen gave the cat sitting on the back of the couch a quick scratch behind the ears before spread himself out over the couch, letting his body relax and a long breath emptied out of his lungs. He drifted in and out of an unsatisfying sleep for a while, his hood pulled up and over his eyes to simulate darkness, before he heard the cushions of the couch squeak as Ukon sat down in front of him. Slightly irked, he raised his head, peeking at Ukon through the lengthy bangs that had fallen over his face.

"Time to go?"

Ukon shook his head, his painted lips set in a gentle line. "Not yet."

"Then why'd you wake-"

"You weren't really sleeping anyways."

Sakon scowled and laid his head back down stubbornly, but chose not to complain as Ukon leaned back against his legs just slightly in an attempt to pet the cat. The feline, annoyed from being disturbed from its nap as Sakon was, mewed at him once or twice before scampering off.

"Well, spit it out," Sakon said finally, blinking in hopes of convincing his eyes to stay open; they had quickly become rather fond of staying closed and letting him rest and did not feel like adjusting.

"Are you just going to keep it a secret?" Ukon asked. "You know what I mean… that thing with Kimimaro. Because Tayuya-chan seems really upset lately, and if you know what's wrong-"

"I assure you, Ukon, I have no part in what's going on with them right now," said Sakon exasperatedly. "Kimimaro and I… seem to have grown apart in the past while. It was a fling; I'm over it, end of story."

Ukon leaned forwards, frowning at his brother. "I still think you should tell Tayuya-chan, at least. She has a right."

He felt a slight nudging at his back from Sakon's knees and stood reluctantly. His brother took this opportunity to pull his tired body off the couch, and with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his sweatshirt, began hastily for the door and away from Ukon.

"H-hey!" Ukon protested, following him, "Don't just walk away from me like that!"

Sakon proceeded to ignore him, picking up his sopping wet shoes from where he had left them, now sitting in miniature lakes on the floor. Standing a metre or two behind him, Ukon gritted his teeth in frustration. He heard soft paw steps as their cat, Marmalade II, made tight circles around his feet, oblivious to what was going on around him. Long, peach coloured hairs clung to his pant legs, the feline mewing softly for attention it would not be receiving.

Ukon squinted at his brother, trying to read him. "Sakon-"

"What do you want me to do?" Sakon blurted out angrily, whipping his head around. "It's none of my business anymore, and it's certainly not any of _yours_, so why do you insist on doing this?"

"It's just not like you, and that's what bothers me!" Ukon yelled in return. "You're pretending you're not part of the issue anymore, but you _are_!"

"Stop it," Sakon uttered, the words coming from low in his throat. He threw on his jacket hurriedly, trying to ignore the looks Ukon was giving him; eyes throwing accusatory glances, like acid to corrode his defences. His key ring jingled softly as he picked it up from where he had left it hanging on a hook by the door, doing his best not to snap at his brother. "I have to go to work now. We'll talk about this later, okay?"

The door closed was slammed shut before Ukon had a chance to answer.

Sakon walked briskly down the hall, eyes to the ground. He did not raise them, nor even bother to take notice of anything happening around him until he stepped outside. Since he had last been outside, it had grown considerably darker, an illuminate blue shining through from behind the clouds that blanketed the sky. Scowling, Sakon began cursing quietly under his breath, the reasons he was giving himself for his frustrations not quite believable.

And that was the worst thing about arguing against Ukon. For Sakon, it was like yelling at a mirror version of himself that knew just what he was thinking but did not want to say.

o

"Nous allons a Paris."

Gaara stared for a moment at the upset down version of Neji he was looking at, in a world where the sky was made of snow-covered grass and cement and trees and houses hung from it like ornaments as they plunged in the vast blue that appeared where the ground should have been. His knees were locked on the bright red monkey bars to let his upper body hang upside down, one hand holding firmly onto one rung for safety (he never had liked heights all that much). A small bit of his pale midriff showed where his coat had slipped down a little, the skin bristling with small bumps from the frighteningly cold December air.

"Ma famille et moi allons a Paris pour la vacance d'hiver," said Neji, half-smiling at Gaara's confusion before translating. "My relatives and I are going to Paris over winter vacation."

"…oh," answered Gaara, knowing his disappointment leaked through. He had been hoping to spend the majority of his free time on the holidays with Neji. It would be his and his siblings' first Christmas without their father, and he knew things would be rather tense between them for a while. Things always were around that time. Sometimes, their father would be quiet almost the entire holiday, all stony glares as he spent each passing day either at work or in his room. Other times, he would become almost pleasant and actual smile without having it look so rehearsed. Their last one, however, had not gone all that well…

Gaara's eyes locked in on the trampled snow below him as he looked for something to say, trying not to make a big deal out of it.

"I didn't know you could speak French," he said finally, for lack of anything else.

Neji shrugged. "Hiashi always goes on a business trip to France or somewhere around Christmas, and he likes to bring us along for a vacation. I've just picked up some basics of the language over the years…"

"When are you leaving?" Gaara asked, pulling himself back up onto the bar. His face was red from the blood that had settled there, dizziness bombarding him as it drained.

"Friday night."

"Ah," said Gaara. "That's soon."

Nodding in agreement, Neji walked over to the brightly painted Gaara sat atop of, leaning against one of the posts. "I guess I put off telling you because I was hoping it would somehow be cancelled and I wouldn't have to go."

"Why?"

"Tch." The Hyuuga looked bitterly amused. "Paris is a great place, but being there with my relatives for two weeks… well, that isn't. Spending that much time with them gets more than a little stressful, or frustrating… I've never been all that friendly with them and it's just difficult, for other reasons…"

"I see…," commented Gaara, figuring out what Neji was hinting at.

Making sure he was balanced properly on the bars, Gaara brought his hands together and rubbed them for warmth. He and Neji had not been out there for more than twenty minutes but his face already felt as if it had been stuck in a freezer for ages. Meanwhile, small white snowflakes had begun to fall thickly, the wind tossing them about as they came down.

Neji glanced up at him through the thin, lacy veil that was beginning to obscure the details that surrounded them. "I'll miss you while I'm gone."

Caught off-guard, Gaara felt blood rush to his cheeks once again. "M-me too… I'll miss you," he stammered.

"Do you think you'd be able to do something with me on Friday before I go?" Neji asked, slight hesitances between his words pushing on.

Sometimes, it felt as if they were tiptoeing around things, looking for the right (or wrong) time to plunge in. Not wanting to push too hard, not wanting to give too much slack, the balance that came so easily some times seemed so off others…

"Sure," Gaara answered, and Neji seemed to relax a little.

"We should get going home," he commented. "We might get frostbite."

"Yeah, I know…" the redhead mumbled, tilting his head back to look upwards. "I like it out here though."

He smiled, just a little, before carefully pushing himself from the monkey bars to land unsteadily on the ground, tensing as he felt Neji catch his arm to steady him. Ever since he had told Neji of his abuse, the brunette had been a little tentative to be as physical as he was tempted to be with the him. Nonetheless, any contact that was made was trusting, comfortable, almost doubtless… To be truthful, whenever Gaara tried to describe it he would become stuck, but the gist of it he had.

No questions were asked as Neji took Gaara's hand in his own and proceeded towards the street, the alighted windows and glittering Christmas lights strung over eaves troughs and through trees muted by the layers of snow, falling even heavier now. Night had come early, as the days were growing shorter and shorter, and it almost seemed as if the world were empty except for them, walking along the empty sidewalk in the darkened world. It was a familiar scenario, bringing back memories of Hallowe'en among other times.

_It would be nice if it were always like this… no one here to see us, or to care about us being together, or to…_

"About today…" Gaara started, a thought suddenly striking him.

Neji raised an eyebrow. "What about today?"

"In Geography, when those guys were… were bothering you about… yeah."

"Oh, that," Neji gave his hand a little bit of a reassuring squeeze. "They were just being assholes."

"That's what Naruto said, but…" Gaara shook his head, irritated. "I was just frustrated… I couldn't say anything, and it bothered me…"

"It's fine," Neji replied firmly. "Don't let them get to your head. I honestly can't _stand_ ignorance like theirs, which is why I object to them. They're the reason I wanted to keep this, us, a secret in the first place… I knew it would just make things that much worse. But there's absolutely nothing wrong with this, if that's what you're thinking…"

"It's not," Gaara said defensively, wincing.

"Good," the brunette muttered.

Gaara opened his mouth a tiny bit, as if tempted to push a little further, but no sound was let out as his warm breath hit the frigid air, a small cloud of white hovering before his face for a moment before it faded, swept away with the wind.

o

Sasuke's hand covered Naruto's, holding it down against the tabletop of the café. The Uchiha's breath smelled of coffee, and the insides of his mouth tasted even more bitterly of it, but Naruto was too preoccupied with the vivacious kisses Sasuke was covering his lips with to comment. It almost felt as if the raven-headed boy were trying to suffocate him, pressing on without rest or giving Naruto much time to breathe at all.

An hour or so after Naruto had arrived home from school with Iruka, Sasuke had shown up at the door. He asked – and Naruto found it amusing that he actually had asked – if the blonde wanted to do something with him, and after Naruto had traded part of his soul and a promise to wash the dishes for a week, Iruka agreed to let him out for a few hours.

When asked where they were going, Sasuke replied simply, darkly, _Anywhere but my place._ Naruto had rolled his eyes, laughing _Oh, that's specific_, and Sasuke sent him an annoyed look and muttered something about a café.

It had been walking along a small road lined with houses that looked like they could have been made of gingerbread that led into town that Naruto had gotten the bright idea to throw a rather large snowball at the back of Sasuke's head. So one half-snowball-fight half-make-out session on an old woman's lawn later, the pair found themselves soaking wet and exhausted as they made their way to the café.

A half-eaten donut sat on Naruto's plate, and beside that were two mismatched mugs, one with hot chocolate (for Naruto), and one with coffee (which Naruto laughed at Sasuke for drinking).

Sasuke's tongue traced the line Naruto's lips were set in before pushing through. Eyes closed, mouth open, listening to the faint sounds of people chit-chattering away and the clinking of dishes. Even then, it was like they were fighting a war against each other, pushing and pushing to see how far they could go before someone gave up, gave in, gave out. However, Naruto swore he could feel something underneath that which Sasuke refused to address. It was unanswered questions and tired looks, and things Sasuke refused to let him see. Naruto responded to the kisses, trying to delve a little deeper, to decipher it but…

"Sasuke…"

If the Uchiha heard the frustration spoken, he pretended not to, kissing Naruto once, then twice again.

Distractions.

o

"You can come in for a bit if you want," Gaara said to Neji, pausing on the second step leading up to the one-storey house. The small drops of half-melted snow clinging to his hair glinted in the light from the windows, as the evening sky was starless and sullen, even where the clouds grew thin enough to see through.

Neji shook his head. "That's alright. I'm fine."

"Alright… Well, I'll see you tomorrow," Gaara sussurated, glancing coyly from the ground up to Neji. The Hyuuga leaned forwards quickly, darting a kiss to Gaara's half-frozen lips.

"Make sure you get enough sleep," he whispered, his forehead pressed to Gaara's. The redhead nodded, something sweet and uncensored rising inside of him. All over again it came, there in the shrouded 6:00 night of mid-December, laced with snow. He smiled and squeezed Neji's hand.

"I will."

Ende Chapter 21

Footnotes…

(1) – I actually tried this (counting how many times I hear an anti-gay comment) at school one day. I believe it was about 8 or 9 by lunch. I've also heard most high school students hear an average of 15 anti-gay comments a day. And sadly, people just like the two mentioned in this chapter sit near me in art class…


	22. Tangled up in You

_**Carousel**_

Chapter 22: Tangled up in You

I first off, apologize for how bad my French turned out last chapter. Seems everything I learned in the last five years completely dissipated over the summer… and thanks to the wonderful people who pointed out my mistakes (The Caged Bird and Xfanatic).

And a HAPPY HALLOWEEN to all! For anyone who cares, I'm dressing up as Kyo from Dir en Grey (macabre era style), while **Kokuei no Onchuu** is going as Shinya, and I've bribed my boyfriend into dressing up as Die!

I feel I owe some people review responses…

**Mayaku-chan** – Mainstream 'cool' is my arch nemesis… And where I live it snows A LOT. Like, five months of the year, and I hate the cold! But I think snow can make things pretty…

**JK** – Actually, I was more addressing Scapegoat on the formatting, yeah… but no problem! Really! Eeh, yeah, those pills… er, I sorta made those up. But they have drugs for everything these days so there's probably something like that… Yeah, gay marriage is legal in Canada (w00t!), but some people are still just as intolerant.

**Jade** – Thanks for pointing that out, I didn't catch that in editing, and promptly fixed it because it irked me too! My little sister never uses 'gay'… actually, she's pretty comfortable with homosexuality for a preteen, so I'm proud of her. Good for you, teaching your brother like that!

**Thank you to everyone who read (cookies if you reviewed)! It means a lot!**

And if anyone on livejournal feels like checking me out, I'm ebonycreme. That said, on with the chapter!

**I disclaim, etc.**

o

_At night, my dreams are murky and distorted, everything dulled down to muddied shades, greyed tints. It's cold there, so much that I can hardly feel the current against my skin, awareness dispersed. I feel as though I'm standing before a wide ocean the reaches on up into the sky, breathtaking in its size and power. Beneath the throbbing, rippled surface, I catch quick glimpses of that which lives underneath, obscured._

_The submerged fragments hidden from me…_

_Beneath the sound of the water pounding and smashing against the narrow shoreline, the land that keeps me dry, I hear things. Things I want to hear and things I don't, and occasionally, things I can't place._

_Getting further and further…_

_I won't let it bury me._

o

Gaara's eyes glanced anxiously to the date scrawled on the black board in pale blue chalk. _Wednesday December 18th_.

Two days until Christmas holidays.

Two days until Neji left…

Sighing, he turned his attentions back to the nearly blank sheet of lined paper, a few crossed out scribbles taking up room on the first few lines since he had given up on his eraser. There was a small pile of small of dirtied pink eraser bits left from his attempts, curled from his attempts to sweep them up with his fingertips. No matter how hard he tried, he simply could think of _nothing_. Nothing worthwhile, anyways.

The night before, soon after being told of Neji's soon-to-be absence, Gaara realized that this meant Neji would not be there for Christmas. This also meant he only had two – and barely even that many! – days to think of a present to get Neji.

The main problem was his brain had chosen that time to depart for am early vacation somewhere far, far away, leaving him basically idealess. He considered getting Neji some film or something camera-related, before remembering he knew about photography or anything of that sort and would not know what type of thing to buy. Neji did not seem the type for chocolate (flowers were_ completely_ out of the question), and he knew he would not be able to afford anything fancy or impressive… so he had reached a dead end. A big, empty, and ostensibly hopeless dead end.

Letting his pencil drop onto the fake-wooden desk and roll a small ways away, Gaara rested his head on one of his arms and let his eyelids slide half-closed, blurring the world before him. The classroom was a little less than half-empty, due to the Jazz band rehearsal for the Christmas concert. This also left the classroom rather quiet, since Naruto, Lee, and Kiba (the "noisy" ones) were all in Jazz Band, along with Neji, Sasuke and Hinata.

Those who were in Concert Band kept glancing anxiously at the clock, waiting for their time to go down to the music room, and two clarinet players were going over fingerings nervously, using rulers as pretend instruments. Iruka had given up on teaching a half-full class of distracted students, and had decided to cancel the lesson. Thus Gaara, who was in neither Jazz nor Concert band, had an entire morning to try to coax his mind into birthing at least one somewhat plausible idea.

"Oh, Sasuke-kun!"

Wincing at the shrill sound, Gaara saw the platinum blonde head of Ino pop up from a group of predictably giggling girls as the Uchiha sauntered into the classroom, a sour look upon his face. He ignored Ino as he headed over to where his backpack sat on his chair and began to rummage through it in an irritated manner, cursing as he caught his finger on the zipper.

"Is the Jazz band practice over?" Sakura asked him, a little too eagerly. "Can the rest of us go down-"

"No," he hissed, voice tense and clipped. "I just forgot some of my music…"

A few seconds later, he yanked a loose sheet of music out of his bag and hastily zipped it shut, just missing catching one of his fingers again. Without another glance to the girls, he turned and left, footsteps loud as he stomped towards the door and near-slammed it shut behind him.

"Man…" one of Sakura's friends commented with raised eyebrows, "someone's pissed off today…"

"It's no wonder, though!" Ino said a little too loudly. "I mean, Naruto did break up with him last night!"

"Naruto broke up with him?"

Ino shrugged. "Well, I'm not sure of who broke up with whom, or if it was both of them or whatever, but both seem pretty out of it today, don't ya think?"

"Hey," Sakura whined, prodding Ino with her pencil, "how did _you_ find out about this before me?"

"I asked Naruto this morning, and he said," she cleared her throat and altered her voice in an imitation, "'Oh, the bastard and I split last night, that's all'. Like nothing was wrong at all!"

A pig-tailed brunette whistled in appreciation. "Wow…"

_Wow indeed_, Gaara's thoughts echoed before he let his eyelids slide all the way closed and the separate sounds collapsed into a jumble of unrecognizable ones, and his thoughts concerning what to get Neji spiralled off in a completely different direction.

o

A sky knock came on the door, followed by a pause, then three rather demanding ones and a hefty kick.

"Kimimaro! Look, I know you're in there, just answer the fucking door, will ya?" Tayuya yelled, peering through the gauzy curtains hung over the pane of glass. "It's fucking cold out here! Let me in! Oh, _come on_!"

At lack of answer, she kicked at the locked door again, and was rewarded with muffled sounds of movement coming from inside the house that was a bit large and fancy for two people to share. Kimimaro lived there with his aunt, an uptight business woman that did not 'approve' of Tayuya, nor most of the people she ever saw him with, but she didn't have enough time to make a fuss about it so she let it be.

Tayuya stepped back a little as the lock clicked and the door swung open to reveal a rather peeved looking Kimimaro, still adorned in a large white T-shirt and navy pyjama pants that hung loosely from his frame. Tayuya herself wore only a thick dull green jacket and a striped toque aside from her normal clothing as protection from the cold, her teeth chattering violently from the chill.

"What do you wadt?" he muttered in a voice betraying that he was currently burdened with sickness, goose bumps rolling up and down his body as the cold seeped in through the open doorway. "No, neverbind, just cobe in…"

The orange-haired girl quickly stepped inside into the small foyer after him, removing her beat-up sneakers and placing them on the mat while Kimimaro closed the door firmly, locked it again, and stomped off. Frowning, Tayuya scampered after him.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I wouldn't have come if I knew you were sick…"

"It's fide." He shook his head in blatant annoyance before turning and beginning his ascent with one shaky hand against the railing. Four lavender-carpeted steps up, he stopped as a raw-throated cough shook through his body, throwing him off balance just slightly. Taking a second to steady himself, another shiver running through him,

Tayuya rolled her eyes. "Yeah, fine my ass!"

Kimimaro scowled. "Don't be so… Why ared't you id school, adyways?" he said scornfully, "You kdow you cad't afford to let your grades drop ady lower, else you bight dot graduate this year."

"Skipping one fucking day isn't going to lower my marks that far," Tayuya protested in annoyance, stripping off her coat as she followed Kimimaro up the carpeted staircase. "I don't feel like going to that shit-hole anyways, not in the mood that I'm in; I'll just end up making an ass of myself! Besides, I wanted to talk to you…"

"You really should go…," he muttered persistently, her footsteps catching up to him as she began to go up two steps at a time.

"Why, is the bitch gonna come home and kick me out?" Tayuya snorted. "I'll stay if I want to."

"Tayuya…"

"Look, would you stop this? Damnit!" By this time, Tayuya had caught up to him, grasping his thin forearm with a hand, her tanned skin and brightly-painted nails clashing horribly with his crème, almost skeleton-like limb. She gave him one of her looks, one of those _'No way in Hell I'm letting you go without a fight'_ looks that he had become so accustomed to trying to brush off, but now made his stomach churn. Insensitive, broken off; he had always been a little more than distant to her, and she had dealt with it in that way she did, acting like nothing mattered. All 'I don't give a shit' and 'Fuck the world'. He would admit, the relationship was more physical than anything else, and neither seemed to mind that on-off, in-out, push-pull gravity that seemed to have captured them.

That's how it _was_; as in, _had been_.

As in (and he was beginning to feel that so clearly); wasn't anymore.

Past tense.

"You haven't really been acting yourself lately," Tayuya said, lowering her voice. "And it's not just me being fucking _delusional_, Temari and Ukon have noticed it too! And you've been sick on and off for the last goddamn month and I just…just want you to tell me what's wrong so I can get this off my mind, okay?"

Kimimaro looked away, another irritated sigh passing through his slender lips. "I wish you would drop it. It really isd't adythig, Tayu-"

"Don't," she hissed. "You don't have to be acting all 'tough guy' all the damn time! I don't care anymore, okay? Now tell me."

"Ta-" The sound was cut off by another bout of hoarse-throated coughing, rippling violently through Kimimaro's body. His hand shot to his faint-lipped mouth, muscles giving way as he struggled to control the fit. Sure enough though, Tayuya had taken a quick step towards him, wrapping her arms around him as to support his weight. In the process, the jacket she had been holding had been dropped onto the floor by their feet, spilling snow onto the carpet.

The coughing subsided down in a little longer than soon enough, leaving Kimimaro short of breath as he continued to lean half against Tayuya and half against the banister, another shiver running up-down through him. It even hurt to breathe, as if his throat had been scratched by something that lived in his stomach that had desperately been trying to crawl out, hot tears sticking to his lashes and beneath his eyes.

"Kimimaro."

Her voice was demanding and yet not as harsh as he had guessed it would be, creeping beneath his skin.

"_Tell me_."

He shifted his weight as to take a little from her and place it on the railing of the curved staircase, knowing she was struggling to keep him upright.

"If you wadt to kdow so fucking badly," he said, ostensibly at his wits end, "I'b gettig some tests done."

"Some tests done? Tests for what?" Tayuya asked, tightening her grip on his arm.

"Dod't touch me," he grumbled, attempting to shrug her off.

However, her grip stayed strong. "Stop that! Answer me! Stop avoiding the fucking question, you bastard!"

His eyes turned upon her, and for a moment, she could picture him pushing her away; her back slamming into the matching banister on the other side of the staircase, the bars digging into her back as her face stung from the slap. She knew she would push him too far sometimes, for fun or because she was too stupid to realize what she was doing, and he would turn almost violent on her, but it had not yet gotten to the point where…

"Tests," Kimimaro said, "because I'b sick."

"Sick _how_?" she questioned (pushing and daring).

"Sick, Tayuya," he sighed, "in a dot good way, alright? It's not just this cold. I'll call you whed I get the results… probably today or toborrow…"

After a pause, the orange-haired girl nodded. "Alright… I just… don't like being left in the dark. Makes me feel pretty shitty."

He winced.

"And sorry for being such a bitch," she continued, smiling. "I was…worried."

"Ah."

He felt the crown of her carrot-coloured head press into his shoulder, her right breast and hip doing the same further down. Places he knew, places his hands had scoured, savoured. Hesitantly, he twitched his arm as to hold her marginally, thinking of what his aunt would say if she came home to such a sight for yet another time; the air thick with the men's cologne Tayuya chose to where and the house much less than the perfectly tidy state it was usually in.

Tayuya rocked back on her heels, nuzzling him affectionately before breaking the embrace and bending down to grab her coat before starting down the stairs two or three at a time.

"Go to your room!" she called one she had reached the bottom. "I'm making you some tomato soup! They say that sort of shit is good for you! So you better be in bed when I get back up there, or else I'm force-feeding you!"

o

Long red and green streamers were strung messily all throughout the gymnasium, a large sign declaring 'HAPPY HOLIDAYS' taped up against the wall the rows of oddly-coloured plastic chairs were facing. Though everyone still referred to it as the 'Christmas Concert', a few offended people had forced the school board to change it to a 'Winter Holidays Concert' the year before, much to the annoyance of some and satisfaction of others. The scene differed slightly from that of the rehearsal that afternoon, as the band and choir members were now uniformly dressed in a white collared shirt of some variety and black pants, and the chairs were filled with relatives as well as students. All that was left of the concert was the Jazz Band's performance, and then (much to the relief of many) the concert would be finished.

Sasuke stood near the back of the ensemble, his fingers darting over the strings of the black electric bass he held as he waited for their cue to begin playing. The lull of chattering coming from the audience and performers combined was beginning to cause a slow-throbbing headache to manifest his skull, and it was not being helped in the least by the constant tip-tapping of Naruto's fingers against the edge of his seat only a few metres away, humming restlessly under his breath. These noises stood out to Sasuke above the mess of other jumbled ones, causing his concentration to shatter almost completely. His head felt cramped, thoughts squished and squeezed until any flow was lost altogether.

"_What're you doing, Sasuke?"_

The Uchiha breathed a sigh of relief as Tsunade came to stand in front of the crowd, calling quiet to the gymnasium.

_Hands pushing distance between._

Sasuke closed his eyes, rather grateful for the silence until he realized that without the noise, all he could hear was the unforgiving pounding in his brain, his thoughts noisy and disruptive. Radio interference, sharp and jagged static.

"_What do you mean?"_

– _kiss me –_

And despite his efforts, his eyes kept sneaking glances over to the blonde trumpet player, fingers still beating out rhythm against the side of the plastic chair as he gazed off into another world. Sometimes, Sasuke would find his eyes stuck, and that quick glance he had meant to take turned into a full minute or more of exploring Naruto's expression or the messy hair sticking out from beneath the lopsided Santa hat. Eventually the blonde would twitch or turn his head a little bit Sasuke's way and – the Uchiha would bitterly admit it; cowardly – Sasuke would force his gaze away, pretending to be fascinated by the scratches in the large painted bricks that lined the wall.

"_Stop it!"_

But even when he closed his eyes; there Uzumaki was.

"_Stop what?"_

It wasn't his fault, he kept telling himself mentally. It's that damn blonde, it's his fault, it was a mistake to ever let him get to me like he did, and good riddance he's gone. That stupid, stupid dobe…

"_It almost feels like you're _using_ me!"_

"Sasuke?"

_(…"I hate you, sometimes"…)_

The black-haired boy looked up, discovering Neji was looking at him intently.

"We're starting," the brunette whispered, raising his tenor saxophone to his mouth.

Sasuke looked at him cluelessly for a moment before realizing the band teacher, Kurenai, had raised her arms to begin conducting, and was already counting them in. Cursing under his breath, Sasuke flipped to their first piece and jumped his hands to where they should have been on the bass, his headache gaining force. Despite his impairments, though, he played through the piece without portraying his state of mind. He had not expected anything else of himself. His parents had started him on piano when he was five years old, and violin when he was seven, so bass had come easily to him. He liked it when things came easy, when he could master things as if he had known them his entire life.

Not knowing things and having to work at them was, quite frankly, not as great, and rather disappointing to him of himself.

He could hear the applause, sounding somewhat far-off and yet unbearably loud, as the second piece ended. Kurenai called up Naruto, Neji and Hinata to take separate bows for their solos (everyone always found it strange how such a quiet girl like Hinata could produce such a large, clear, sound on her alto sax) before the rest of the band took a bow together. Sasuke could hear Naruto's laughter, bubbling, rising so clearly above the rest of the noise, as he took of his bass and quickly laid it down into its case. Again, he was aware of Neji saying something to him but he chose to ignore it, picking up the case and stalking off through the crowd, head spinning and spinning…

Was there no place of calm within the whirlwind?

o

"And that comes to $10.58."

Temari slipped two crumpled five-dollar bills on the counter, wincing as she realized she forgot to add in tax and had come up short.

"Just a minute, I think I have some change…," she said as she began rooting through her purse, her face lighting up like a Christmas tree just being plugged in as she found three quarters, quickly dropping them onto the counter. Sighing, the cashier – who was dressed rather comically in a full Santa costume – ripped the receipt from the machine and dropped it inside a plastic bag, then quickly gathered a handful of change.

"No returns after 25 days," he said, voice dripping with a lack of enthusiasm, "Thank you for shopping at Bargain-Mart and have a pleasant what's left of your day."

"You too…" Temari paused a moment, squinting at him. "Wait, wait… I've seen you somewhere before, haven't I?"

"Maybe…" he answered.

"I swear I have." Her eyes glinted devilishly. "Take off the beard! I'll remember your face."

"No, miss."

"Oh come on, why not?" she asked, pouting.

The cashier rolled his eyes. "There are small children present… do you really want to break their hearts by revealing their precious Santa Clause is nothing but an adolescent getting paid minimum wage?"

"Oh, come on; just let me have a peak." Temari pleaded, trying to keep herself from succumbing to the laughter growing up in her throat.

"I said no!"

"Yeah, well screw that!" Before he could protest, Temari reached over the counter and yanked off the blatantly fake beard to reveal the aggravated face beneath. "Oh, Shikamaru! I haven't seen you in a while!"

"We have to keep meeting like this…" He gave her an annoyed look. "Okay, you know who I am. Will you give me the beard back now?"

"Not a chance. So…." She cocked an eyebrow at his outfit. "What are you doing here? Working in Bargain-Mart… w-wearing a… hehe… Santa suit?" …

Shikamaru shrugged, leaning against the counter. "Mom insisted I get out of the house… It was this or be an elf and help with the kids in the mall. I hate kids. I hate malls."

"I see…" said Temari. "Are you working here all Christmas then?"

He nodded, the pom-pom on his Santa hat bobbing with his movement. "Pretty much…"

"Wow… that sorta sucks… a lot."

"I know."

"Well, I better get going…" Temari said. "I'll see you around… or, actually…"

Another mischievous grin made its way onto her face, causing Shikamaru slight discomfort. He always got just a little frightened when females got that look… but only just a little. "What now…?"

"How would you like to-"

"T-Temari-chan?"

The dialogue was cut short as Temari turned around to see who had addressed her and found a rather distraught Tayuya. Strands of limp ginger hair clung to her dampened cheeks, turned pink from frostbite and the tears still dripping from her eyes like someone had forgotten to turn off a faucet. Her coat was dusted with a layer of snow that had melted into dark watermarks, her body quivering uncontrollably from both her distressed state that the cold weather almost as if she were being electrocuted, shocked. Eyes wide and lined with spindly red blood vessels, she gasped in breath.

"My God, Tayuya-chan… what happened?" A look of horror grew on Temari face as she watched her friend struggle for words. "Sorry, Shikamaru I'll talk to you later… Tayuya-chan, tell me what's wrong, please." She wrapped an arm around Tayuya, not a bit surprised as the girl quickly clasped her hands to Temari's neck, thundering sobs jolting their bodies.

The only distorted syllables Temari was able to put meaning to was "Ki-Kimima…ro" before Tayuya slumped forwards onto her, unconscious.

o

Gaara stood in front of the familiar white door, feeling as if he were frozen in place. Maybe, he joked with himself, Iceman from The X-men had come along when he wasn't looking and turned him into ice, just like that. But surely that could not be it, as aside from the lack of logic and utter ridiculousness of that theory, he could feel his heart keeping an ever-speeding tempo. The beat reverberated through every inch of his body, and he could feel heat swarming his face and throat from anxiety. And if he coaxed his frigid muscles into it, he found he could extend his arm and rap twice on the door, easy.

_Oh, shit._

"Come in!" came the shout from behind the door. Still overwhelmingly nervous, Gaara slowly twisted the doorknob and let the door swing open, mind blanking as he realized he had no more time to prepare.

"Hi…" he said softly as he entered. The room was in a slightly messier state than when he had last been the Neji's house, clothes strewn over the bed along with various other items. In the middle of it was a large black suitcase that Neji was leaning over, methodically compacting packing everything into it, items of clothing folded over and over and squeezed tightly in rows.

"Hey…" the Hyuuga glanced up to greet him, shuffling things around as to have them fit better. "Oh, could you pass me my CD case? It's on the desk."

"Uh, sure."

Gaara paused, eyes browsing the few scattered works left out on Neji's desk – a little more than amazed and envious and proud all at once, as usual – before gabbing the CD case and bringing it over to Neji, cursing mentally as he found it nearly difficult to meet the other's eye.

"Thanks." Neji smiled briefly before going back to wrestling with his suitcase. "I hope you don't mind… you might have to help me get this closed…"

"N-no problem…" Gaara answered, trying to clear his head. Inhale, exhale, don't mess up now, inhale…

"Sorry, packing always has me a little stressed…"

"It's fine." He sat down on a clear corner of the bed, bringing his hands, and the package contained in them, onto his lap. His fingers began running unconsciously along the side of it, all covered in smooth red wrapping paper and held together with an untidy dose of scotch tape. He could feel his mouth open, imagining himself saying the words, until finally in one quick breath, he forced out a mixed up version of what he had planned to say.

"Er… I, uh… here."

He outstretched his arm towards Neji, turning his head away as a warm cerise blush flooded his cheeks, lips pressed tightly into a tiny, anticipating smile. The knot between his ribs only grew a little tighter as he felt the weight being taken from his hand, the moment edging along towards…

"You got this for me?"

Gaara nodded, inhaling deeply as he heard Neji beginning stripping off the wrapper paper – _peeling another layer off me_ – the fingertips of his other hand skimming the cover.

"Gaara…"

The spine crackled quietly as Neji opened the thick, blank-paged book, eyes captivated as he read the inscription and poem in the front that was written in Gaara slightly messy but still legible script. The cover was smooth and black, free of any scratches or dents, and in the corner was a small blue design of leaves.

It had taken Gaara quite a while to find something he thought Neji would actually enjoy receiving as his Christmas present. It had been Kankurou's idea, actually, after commenting on how 'artsy types and all that' usually like journals and sketchbooks, and Gaara could hardly believe he himself had not thought of it sooner.

"Did you write this? The poem?" Neji asked, fingering the corners of the pages.

Gaara shook his head, the colour on his cheeks still burning bright. "N-no, I… I found it in my Mother's book…"

"It was a good choice. I like it a lot," he smiled. "The sketchbook too… it's perfect. Thank you."

Neji perched beside Gaara on the edge of the bed, bringing up an arm to embrace Gaara with. The redhead – greatly relieved that Neji had actually liked his gift – let himself sink into the other. _Perfect_, Neji had called it. Now there was a word he had never heard before in context concerning anything he had ever done.

"Merry Christmas…" he murmured.

"You too," Neji murmured, pecking Gaara once on the lips. A sweet, breathtaking, far-too-short moment. Dizzying, giddiness, silence.

"I feel a little bad that I haven't gotten you anything yet," Neji admitted quietly as he rested his chin atop Gaara's head. "I was planning on getting you something from Paris…"

"You don't have to do that…"

Neji shook his head. "I'm going to get you something whether you want me to or not…"

With that, he leaned in towards Gaara again – hearts skipping, palms sweating, eyes half wide closed – as their lips met once more, holding contact for a little longer this time before breaking and dipping back in for more, another and another. Neji's hand held Gaara's shoulder as he lead the timid boy slowly into a deeper kiss, the kind that stirred something inside your body, laughing at any words that tried to capture it or an act that attempted to recreate it.

The redhead let out a muffled squeak as he felt Neji's tongue play against his lips, opening his mouth just slightly to let sensation rush in. Sensing some of Gaara's uncertainty, the Hyuuga pulled away, almost equally as breathless.

So much for packing…

"I'll miss you while you're gone," Gaara said quickly.

Neji smiled. "I know… but I'll be coming back."

"Promise?"

Fingers entwine.

"Of course."

"Neji?" came Hiashi's voice from the other side of the door and Gaara startled, untangling himself from Neji.

"Y-yes?" Neji called as he stood and returned to his suitcase as the door opened and Hiashi stepped in, surveying the two apprehensively.

"Ah, hello Gaara…" He granted the redhead a short nod of recognition before turning back to his nephew. "Neji, we're going to be leaving for the airport in a few minutes. Are you packed?"

"Just about."

"Good. We'll see you in the foyer then," said Hiashi. Once he had left, Neji relaxed and continued stuffing a few last minute things into his suitcase, carefully placing the notebook from Gaara on top. Once the zipper had been done up, he hauled it off the bed and onto the floor, taking hold of the handle that allowed on to pull the suitcase along on the wheels on the bottom.

"Well, I guess I'll see you when I get back…" he said softly.

_Can I go that long without you?_

"I have your address, so I'll write as often as I can," Neji continued. "Okay?"

"…yeah." Gaara stood, indecisive for a moment before wrapping his arms around Neji once more.

"Good-bye for two weeks."

"Just two weeks."

"Mm-hm."

Smile, kiss me, promise…

_Just two weeks._

Without you.

o

Snowslip

_There was a thin layer of snow on the ground  
that morning,  
of sparkling dust on your eyelids,  
and a crown of droplets in your hair._

_I carved your name into the sky._

It bled into the treetops,  
that stain of sun that  
leaked through.  
But you smiled anyways.

_And I painted your name onto my lips  
to make sure I wouldn't forget._

End Chapter 22


	23. A Thin Layer of Silence

_**Carousel**_

Chapter 23: A Thin Layer of Silence

Notes: Quite a bit of this chapter was written while the author was ignoring normal sleeping habits. There might be some drama in her life in the next while; this could cause more writing, and it could cause a lot less. Your patience is greatly appreciated. I apologize if at any point in time Naruto's character slipped into Bunny's (The Secret History), but other than that I'm rather proud of this one…

Also, review responses are officially not allowed. I'll do them with the system once I figure out how it works... mmhmm.

**I disclaim, etc.**

o

_December 21 (4 days until Christmas)_

_I never thought I'd be keeping a journal, but what else have I got to do? We've still got another two hours until the plane lands, the in-flight movie is so bad it's stopped being funny, and I've got a feeling that if I stand up to stretch, one of the overly friendly stewardesses will bite my head off._

_I wonder what Gaara's doing now… probably (hopefully) sleeping, actually, since it's about one a.m. back home._

…_I can't help but feel a little guilty. It's not like I lied to him, but still… I guess he's better off not knowing though._

_It would be pointless to lie to an inanimate object such as this journal, so I won't. The night before this one, Thursday, I took a small dosage of… well, you know. That. The itching just gets so bad sometimes, and I knew I wouldn't be able to handle it for two full weeks trapped with Hiashi, Hinata and Hanabi and come out with my sanity in tact, so… I gave in._

_It was stupid of me, and when I saw Gaara I regretted I instantly, but it's not like the problem will disappear like magic… I am getting better though. I'll make sure of that._

_For Gaara's sake at least._

_- Neji_

o

It was Saturday.

She was lying on the unmade bed, clothes on, sheets messy around her. The clock half-buried under CD cases and assorted jewellery read **2:00 pm** in Day-Glo green. She didn't care.

Her eyes kept watching the ceiling, glazed, blank. Perhaps counting all the unpatterned dots on the ceiling tiles, or following to the point of memorization the sharp outline of the fan hanging above her and to the right. Her chest swelled as breath went in – came out – went in again.

The head attached to her neck attached to her shoulders felt as if it had swelled so large she could not bear to lift it, all that oozy puss and raw pink flesh weighing her down. Sometimes she moved, just slightly; licking her dry lips, brushing her unwashed hair from her face, adjusting her body as to try to relieve the aching, hungry and nagging, that had settled all over.

Noise came from the kitchen. Dishes clacked, cupboards opened and shut, and occasionally a voice would murmur to itself or calling to her. She didn't answer.

She hardly blinked as the phone rang, a red blinking light from across the room. It rang twice more before Temari picked it up in the other room, the light flickering before staying red.

"Hello?"

"Hey, this is Ukon… Temari-chan, is that you? What are you doing at Tayuya-chan's place?"

"I just got here a little while ago," Temari answered, the phone squeezed between her shoulder and the side of her face. "I figured you would call."

She heard Ukon sigh. "Yeah… I… how is she? I got pretty worried when I couldn't find her downtown or at school on Thursday or Friday."

"You could've asked me Friday…"

"Yeah, I know, but you looked pretty tired and out of it, and I didn't want to bother you…," said Ukon. "So, what're you two doing?"

"I'm looking for something somewhat edible… Tayuya's Dad is like, an all-out vegetarian health-food freak or something…" answered Temari. "He and Kin had already left by the time I got here… Tayuya is in her room… sleeping, I think."

"Still? Is she sick?"

Temari winced. "No…"

"Oh come on!" She could practically hear Ukon pouting over the phone. "Just tell me what's up already and I'll leave you alone!"

Closing yet another cupboard, Temari shrugged her shoulders out of habit. "Look, I'll let you talk to her. She can tell you…"

Her voice dwindled, almost nervously, replaced by muffled footsteps as she made her way to Tayuya's room. The floorboards creaking as she stepped in.

"Tayuya-chan…"

The orange-haired girl turned her head slightly to acknowledge Temari.

"Um, Ukon is on the phone… here."

Tayuya dug her elbows into the mattress, slowly propping herself up into sitting position and reaching one arm out for the phone. Once she had taken it from Temari, she motioned for the blonde to sit down next to her.

"H-hello?"

"_Tayuya-chan!_ God, I was worried! How are you? Did something happen? _Talk to me!_" His voice came through the phone so loudly she almost had to move the phone away from her ear.

"Oh… some shit happened… that's all."

"That's hideously vague," he commented.

"Yeah."

"Look, you don't have to talk to me if you don't want to, but-"

"No, no," Tayuya interjected. "It's alright…"

There was a buzzing silence as she closed her eyes, feeling Temari's hand clutch hers.

"Kimimaro is…"

"Yes, hun?" Ukon prompted, worriedly.

"He's sick," Tayuya murmured, so quietly Ukon had to strain to hear. "Really badly fucking sick. He told me that the tests came back positive, and…"

And as the words came out of her mouth they became a little more unbelievably true.

"He's HIV positive."

"…oh." was all Ukon could muster for a moment. He heard it, he could feel his brain working, and-

"Oh God, honey! I'm so, so sorry…Shit. _Shit shit shit_! I just-"

"I got tested Thursday," Tayuya continued wearily, hearing Ukon quiet. "Temari took me. We're pretty sure I'm clean… I mean, we always used protection, but there is a chance… But we _know_ he didn't get it from me, so that means he might've _cheated_ on me… or fucked someone while we weren't officially together or whatever… But I…"

There came a gasped sob and the phone was handed back to Temari.

"That's basically what she told me," she said. "…Ukon? Are you still there?"

"Y-yeah. Sorry. I'm just kind of… shocked," he answered.

"Tayuya said she took a bunch of sedatives this morning to try and numb it all away… not that kind of overdose, but more than you should… so it might be better to talk again later," Temari proposed, stroking the back of Tayuya's head gently. "Just don't go spreading this around, okay?"

"I won't, you know that."

"I believe you… bye."

"B-bye."

Ukon wasn't sure how long it was that he continued holding the phone after the dial tone began.

o

Time was moving far too slowly for Gaara's tastes. He could have sworn at least have a day had passed since he had woken up Saturday morning, but the clock dictated 3:00 pm. Every time he glanced at it, figuring at least fifteen minutes or more had passed, he found himself sorely disappointed. A dreariness had settled over him, brain clogged up with a large lump of dull grey that could only be described as unrelievable boredom.

In other words, _there was abso-freaking-lutely nothing to do!_

He was just about to consider actually getting out of bed (he had bothered to shower and dress, he might as well get out of bed again and do something), when something hit his window. Jerking up to sitting position, the redhead stared at the pane of glass for a few moments before it came again, one snowball exploding against the glass while another hit the bricks beside it.

"…the Hell?"

Gaara trudged over to the window, planted his hands on the sill and glared outwards at the world.

Naruto, of course, was standing on his front lawn, wearing a ridiculously orange parka and a goofy grin. He motioned for Gaara to open the window, running forwards.

"Hey!"

Shivering lightly as the cold air swept in, Gaara gave Naruto an unimpressed look.

"What are you doing here?"

"Throwing snowballs at your window," Naruto answered plaintively.

"I know that, but-"

"Come on out!" Naruto interrupted. "How can you be inside on the first day of vacation! Let's go!"

Gaara stared at him a moment, dumbfounded.

"Come on! Going! Now!"

And five minutes later, Gaara found himself on the front lawn beside Naruto, gloved hands shoved into the pockets of his coat, and a scarf and a black toque he had found buried in the closet on his neck and head respectively (though the scarf caused his neck to itch, so he choose to wear it rather loosely).

"Where to?" he asked as Naruto began to head off in a quick gait, following behind.

Naruto shrugged. "Where ever you wanna go is fine…"

"I don't much care."

Wiggling his eyebrows, Naruto grinned. "Well, then I guess I get to play tour guide today!"

Gaara just nodded and followed along behind the blonde, trying to step in the footprints already made by him rather than get his pants all wet. Naruto did most of the talking; Gaara didn't really have anything to say, other than his slight remarks scattered about. Well, that's not the truth; while he _did_ have things to say, he didn't want to say them. He couldn't help it! He was just so curious about what had happened between Naruto and Sasuke that is overshadowed most of his other thoughts, and since actually inquiring would seem a bit rude (it wasn't really any of his business, after all), he chose to stay silent.

"…and if you look to your left, you'll see – Wow! – yet another large pile of snow! They seem to be rather abundant here in Konoha… Oh, it looks like we have a whole herd of them!" Naruto scooped up a hunk of snow from the nearest drift, compacting it in his hands. "Jeez… We really need some better scenery."

"Indeed…" Gaara said. "Well, there's a cemetery that way. Through those trees behind the playground. Neji showed me the shortcut."

"Cool," said Naruto. "Let's go then… Hey."

Gaara looked up at him. "Hey what?"

Naruto only let his Cheshire-cat grin get a little wider. "You and Neji the ice queen seem pretty close, eh?"

"Yeah…" Gaara cheeks began to flavour a little darker pink than that the cold had left upon them, hair all tangled and out of place from the wind. The neighbourhood around them was quiet, almost deserted as the thick breeze swept large gusts of snow from the rooftops and onto the ground below, sculpting a drift in the front yard nearest them.

Naruto wiggled his eyebrows. "…yeah?"

"Are you intending to imply something, Uzumaki?"

"Juuust wondering," Naruto commented, "if, you know, you two are together or something…"

Gaara gave a half-hearted shrug, eyes suddenly glued to his boots. "I, uh…"

_What to say…_

"Hey, whatever, its none of my business," Naruto said cheerfully, testing a drift with his foot to see if it was stable before hopping onto it and sauntering along beside Gaara. "I won't go spreading any rumours… that's for girls to do."

"We… Neji and I…sort of…" Gaara squinted, trying to decide. "Sort of. Yes." He said again, and left it at that.

"Lucky, lucky him then." Naruto nodded. "Sasuke-teme and I… well, that's a fucked up little tale all its own."

"Yeah, so I told…"

Naruto snorted. "You heard the _girl_ version of the story, didn't you."

"I overheard them…" Gaara admitted.

"Girls are lovely but _weird_ sometimes," Naruto muttered. "Anyways, you look like you wanted to know," Gaara blushed at this, "so here goes… We were in this little café place after a snowball fight, not talking too much… Sasuke-teme's _annoying_ like that, doesn't like talking and doesn't care if you do…and we got in an argument. That's all it was really… A goddamn stupid argument."

_What are you doing? Jeezus, would it kill you to talk to me about whatever it is… Oh, don't tell me it's nothing, that's complete bull! I don't get you, Sasuke! I thought we were… Shut up, would you! I thought I was more than a make-out session to you, I thought…Why won't you fucking tell me? Stop locking everyone out! Don't you get it? Don't you?_

Gaara noted Naruto kicked at the snow bank slightly harder than he had previously, causing chunks to go flying and scatter over the ground when they landed and burst.

_What are you **using** me to distract yourself from?_

"He was keeping secrets from me, that's all it is really… We just weren't what we thought we were, and I guess I thought wrong. It was fun while it lasted, I guess." Naruto shrugged capriciously. "Oh well…"

The words were out of your mouth before Gaara even realized he had thought them.

"Do you still care for him?"

Naruto's head swivelled sharply, and Gaara winced with the feeling he was going to be shouted at, but to his surprise, amazement and awe, Naruto chuckled slightly and continued walking.

"Probably…"

At this point they had walked past the playground (Gaara's eyes lingering a little long there) and had reached the pathway in the forest. When the redhead had been there before the trees were adorned in glorious colour, but the leaves had since fallen; only a few remained in bunches, shrivelled up and clinging to the darkened branches that reached up into the white, white sky desperately. The snow before them was untouched save by a few animal footprints.

"Hey, hey…" Naruto started, "when we're finished this little excursion of ours, d'you wanna go get some ramen. I mean, ramen is great, but it's even better if you eat it with someone else… I don't feel like eating it alone today."

"S-sure." Gaara nodded, and Naruto grinned at him widely once more. Gaara didn't even know mouths could stretch that far.

"I don't really like… being alone either," he murmured.

"No one _really_ does," Naruto said. "And if they say they do they're just _lying_."

o

When Sakon got home, Ukon was sitting on the couch, staring listlessly at his knees, the portable phone facedown on the coffee table.

"I'm home!" the younger twin called, pausing as he caught sight of his brother. "Oh, hey… I didn't expect you to be here still… uh, where's mom?"

"Went out."

"Ah." Sakon threw his coat over the back of the couch, resting his chin his hands. Catching sight of Ukon's drink, he raised an eyebrow. "What's that?"

"Vodka and orange juice." Ukon leaned forward, pushing the half-empty, half-full cup a little to the side. "You can have it if you want, I _really_ don't want it anymore."

Sakon shook his head slightly. "Neither do I, actually…"

Ukon let his shoulders slump a little lower, moving the cup back.

Before there was time for an awkward pause to grow, Sakon spoke again. "I guess you're still annoyed with me, is that it? You could've at least waited until I got back to deal with it, and not gotten drunk this early in the day. And I'm sorry, alright, I-"

"That's not it," Ukon interjected. He added, almost jokingly, "And I'm _not_ drunk."

"Yeah right."

He sighed, shaking his head slightly. "Sit down, kay?"

With a suspicion hiding obvious in the side of his eye, Sakon stood and walked around, settling down beside his brother, knees curled to his chest. It suddenly seemed as if there wasn't enough to look at in the room, or rather, that they'd seen it so many times it would seem silly to pretend to be preoccupied with it. On the corner of the coffee table there was a candle in a somewhat festive holder, the wick burnt black and curled from use, while hardened pools of shiny green wax stuck to the bottom.

_I know you know what I'm thinking._

Gradually, Ukon began leaning over to his left until his temple found Sakon's shoulder. Without a spoken word (it was simply unneeded), Sakon lifted his arm and let Ukon settle into him. Body warmth, and alcohol, and a kind of comfort found nowhere else.

When they were children, one twin would often climb into the other's bed in the middle of the night, burrowing deep beneath the covers and into the other. Sometimes, the space between them would seem to disappear, and the place where Sakon ended and Ukon began became blurred. Ukon would cover Sakon's ears when their parents were fighting (_too loud!_) in the next room over, and Sakon would dab at Ukon's tears with the cuffs of his sleeves until the night noises died down, and slowly, they'd depart for sleep.

As they had grown older, such things had slowed to a stop, since their Father finally left them and their mother went to counselling and learned not to yell as loudly. But whenever crisis decided to rear its ugly head (when Ukon first got beaten bloody by other kids, when Sakon was thinking of dropping out of school because he hated-hated-hated it so damn much and didn't care anymore, when Ukon kissed his first boy, when Sakon got dumped by his first girl), they'd find themselves together. Not quite in an incestful way, but in a way that was surely much closer than the term 'brothers' could contain.

"I called Tayuya-chan," Ukon murmured, slurred.

Sakon felt – though he had already known what Ukon was going to say to an extent – as if someone had dropped a brick into his stomach.

"Oh?"

"Yeah," Ukon nodded. "Yeah, and… And you know how…Kimimaro has been sick lately?"

Another brick.

"Mm hm?" Sakon replied, despite the swell in his throat.

"He's… Shit, pass me the drink," Ukon said.

Sakon reached over, though this was a rather uncomfortable motion, and picked up the cup. Ukon took a long, greedy drink from it before passing it back to Sakon, who took just a little sip (just in case), and put it back down.

Ukon licked at the flavour still on his lips. "Kimimaro's HIV positive. Tayuya-chan is severely out of her head because of it. Te-"

"He what?"

Ukon had felt his younger twin go rigid beneath him.

"Is HIV positive."

And another brick.

"Shit." Sakon mumbled. "_Shit shit shit_!"

"You know you sound ridiculously like me when you say that…" Ukon said lightly, but Sakon was not listening.

"No… No, it was just one fucking time, and I'm not stupid enough to go unprotected… I didn't get it. There's no way I got it." His eyes were wide, panicked, breath coming shorter and shorter, scraping against his windpipe. "Where the Hell did _he_ get it? Oh, _fuck_!"

"Calm down," Ukon tried softly, and Sakon pursed his lips, still distressed.

"So… Tayuya must… does she know…? I mean that, we…"

He shrugged. "She suspects, obviously…"

"Oh God, and how is she?" Sakon asked.

"Not too well," Ukon explained, bringing up a hand to rest on Sakon's knee. "Really upset, sort of dazed…"

"You know what I meant - is she sick too?" Sakon spat, clearly agitated.

"We don't know yet."

"Oh Fucking God…" He pressed his forehead to the crown of Ukon's head, trying to steady himself. He was tempted to try to convince himself it was some sort of practical joke or nightmare, or even a hallucination, but knowing how stupid that would be, he just held his brother a little tighter. His breath was coming in short sharp gasps, as if he were crying without sound and his eyes were dry of tears.

"We need to get you tested," Ukon said simply, voice eerily calm. "Then we'll deal with the rest of it… alright?"

Sakon nodded, lacing in his fingers with Ukon's.

"I fucking hate it when you're right…"

"I know."

o

"And where have _you_ been?"

Temari looked up to where Kankurou sat on the couch, the TV remote clutched loosely in his hand and an accusatory look in his eye, one eyebrow raised. Gaara was curled up on the loveseat, knees to his chest and looking all too disinterested.

"What do you mean?" she asked, shrugging the comment off in a way that failed to suggest innocence.

"You've been gone all day is what I mean," her brother complained. "And Gaara was out all afternoon too. I suddenly feel like you two have lives and I don't…"

"So?"

"You guys abandoned me!" he protested as she collapsed on the other side of the couch. Smiling to herself in an _I know something you don't_ sort of fashion, Temari stripped her feet of her socks and began rubbing at her feet, all pink and sore from the effort of walking and the cold.

"Where were you, anyways," Kankurou muttered, going back to flicking through the channels.

"At Tayuya-chan's…" Temari answered simply, a slight hint of sadness in her voice that trailed near the end.

Gaara shifted his eyes over to her lethargically. "No you weren't."

"Eh?"

"I saw you at that coffee place…" he murmured. "With that guy on my class…"

Kankurou's eyes flared.

"She was with _who_?"

Temari rolled her eyes, letting go of her right foot and then bringing up the left, dark stains left where it rested on her knee. "Just Shikamaru."

"You went out for coffee with–"

"Oh, it was just coffee, don't get so worked up," Temari said. "I was at Tayuya's until late afternoon, but had to leave after a while and walking back here we met up and had coffee… It was nice, but… I mean, he made me pay!"

"But-but you were–"

Kankurou's words were quickly put on hold as Temari picked up one of her socks from where it fallen at the floor and whipped it at his face. He quickly brushed it off his face, briefly considering commenting on his siblings habit of throwing things at each other, but figured this would only result in yet more things being thrown (at him, once again) and didn't.

* * *

_It was just coffee._

"_So, how's being Santa's double going?" Temari asked, voice lacking its usual edge._

_Shikamaru shrugged. "Decent, I suppose. Well, except for the supervisor…"_

"_Oh?"_

"_Only people lacking sanity would willingly work at Bargain-Mart…" he rolled his eyes. "This crazy woman smells like cats is my supervisor. She kept getting mad at me because I should be a happier Santa. On my break she actually tried to teach me to smile properly. It was so-"_

"_Troublesome?"_

"_Well, yeah."_

_Temari laughed quietly. "…thanks."_

"_You're welcome, but I didn't really do anything."_

"_I just needed cheering up a bit, I guess…" she shrugged, smiling to herself. "So… thank you for that."_

* * *

"Anything good on?" Temari asked. 

Gaara shrugged. "It's Christmas. Is there ever _anything_ good on at Christmas?"

They eventually settled on The Grinch ("I remember watching this as a kid…" Temari commented softly. Kankurou, in response, remarked, "Everyone watches it every freaking year, and I still don't get what's so great about it. Do you _really_ want to watch it again?" and Gaara said nothing. They watched it anyways – just the three of them, this time.), but truth be told, none of them were really paying attention. Who could, really, when the collected noise going inside those three heads combined would be near enough to cause one deafness?

o

_One day left until Christmas…_

_Who really gives a shit?_

The apartment had never felt emptier. The space around him felt unfamiliar, and yet painfully so, and his mind couldn't make itself up. Somewhere, a clock was ticking, dividing spaces of clean, white quiet that made him want to scream and scream and fill it all up.

Something was pushing, and pushing, and he knew _so well_ that you could only push something _so far_ until… well…

It breaks.

The lock gave a soft, metallic clicking sound as Sasuke gave the key a twist. One day before Christmas and the apartment stood vacant, the clock ticking constantly away to no one, save the reticent furniture.

End Chapter 23


	24. Between Sheets and Paper

_**Carousel**_

Chapter 24: Between Sheets and Paper

AN: It's weird. I'm posting this (the Christmas chapter) near Christmas, and I didn't even _plan_ that. Please note that if you haven't read the latest manga arc, two characters will be unfamiliar.

Also, Worlds Aids Day was December 1. I don't know if you guys did anything (the Gay Straight Alliance I'm part of did an awareness day), but it is a serious issue. Inform yourself, prevent it from spreading, all the lovely stuff. Thank you. And Kimimaro's medical status has been changed to just **HIV positive**, not AIDS.

**I disclaim**

o

_Dated: December 22_

_Dear Gaara,_

_Hey. I'm not sure when this letter will get to you, or if it gets to you at all. But if you are reading this, I guess it got to you eventually._

_Anyways, how are you? Things are going better than I thought they would, I guess. I'm in the hotel right now, waiting for Hanabi to finish getting ready so we can finally leave. Hiashi has some business to do today so a 'professional chauffeur' is taking us sightseeing. We get to go to an art museum and then the Eiffel Tower ('You can't go to Paris and **not** see the Eiffel Tower,' the chauffeur said. He's so damn perky and flamboyant; he and Hanabi get along great when Hiashi isn't around), so hopefully it won't be all bad. We're going shopping tomorrow though… You can guess how I feel about that._

_Paris in general is a nice place, though. This hotel is old and kind of rustic looking, and I've already taken a few pictures. The elevator is like a birdcage and really small, so I bet you would get claustrophobic in it._

_When we get older, we have to travel; you would like it. It's like an escape…_

_Well, I hope everything is going just as good for you. Merry Christmas and all that. Love,_

_Neji_

o

There was a partially empty bowl of soup sitting on the table, a metal spoon resting against the side. Kimimaro was lying stomach-up in the bed, wearing a clean pair of pyjamas (street clothing seemed a little pointless since his aunt refused to let him leave the house). The reflection in the spoon's handle was a distorted image of himself. His face was stretched out vertically to become comically thin, almost as if to parody his already unhealthy and skeletal weight.

"It must get pretty damn boring, just sitting here all day," Tayuya commented from where she sat, the chair tilted back on two legs and her feet resting on the side table.

"Nn," was his only reply. "It's just until this cold is gone."

A pause.

"You don't have to be here, you know."

Tayuya snorted. "Stop fucking saying that. Every time you say that, I'm just going to stay longer, now matter what your bitchy-ass aunt says. Got it?"

"Nn," he said again.

His eyes moved to the window and hers to the door. She had arrived earlier that morning, prancing into the house as if she owned it and defiantly making her way upstairs, skipping every two steps. He was already awake, but she apologized roughly as if she had been the cause anyways. His aunt made him breakfast, and offered to make Tayuya some toast and tea in a way that blatantly implied it would trouble her to do so. Tayuya politely declined, wondering if his aunt might have slipped something in the drink had she accepted.

Kimimaro's breakfast had been planned by a doctor to help him get his strength back up. Eggs, fruit, whole wheat toast and a small pile of multicoloured vitamin pills sitting beside the orange juice. Tayuya had watched him – one pill, two pills, three – and could look no more. It was the pills that were saving him.

After a while, Kimimaro's pale, vein-threaded eyelids had fallen shut, but Tayuya could tell he was just feigning sleep. It felt a little odd to her, being in his bedroom alone with him and not being close, physically. It was all so familiar; the bed, the dark coloured sheets, the scratches in the paint on the walls _(pants, moans, sweat, skin, oh!)_, and how it would not, could not be that way any longer.

Kimimaro opened his eyes as Tayuya sat down next to him on the bed, and gave up his act.

"Are you going home now?" he asked. "Because all I'm going to do is sleep, so…"

"I don't fucking care, okay?" she muttered, resting a tanned hand over his, holding it to the mattress cover. "I'm staying for a little while more…"

o

"Naruto!"

The boy didn't stir.

"Naaaaruto!"

'Ugh, I don' wanna get up…'

There came a rather sharp knocking on the door, vaguely reminiscent of the first few bars of 'Deck the Halls' (but then again, Iruka was never very good at music so it could've been anything). "Uzumaki Naruto! You have a phone call!"

"Fucking phone call? What the Hell time is it?" Naruto muttered into his pillow as he rolled himself onto his back. Only partially awake, he squinted at the clock. "Noon? Who actually freaking calls at _noon_ on the day before Christmas… My God…"

He heard another two knocks before the door opened and a portable phone went sailing over the messy interior to hit him rather accurately in the arm.

"Hey! That _hurt_!" Naruto grumbled, but was answered only with Iruka's laughter.

"I'm making pancakes. You better get up soon or I'll eat them all myself."

"Alright, alright…" Naruto shoved his face back into the pillow, remembering a second later about the phone call he was supposed to be taking. In the process of groping about for the phone, he knocked it off the bed onto the floor.

"Yes? What is it?" he growled once he managed to grasp it.

"H-hi. This is Itachi. Uh, Uchiha Itachi. Naruto?"

"Yeaaaah?" Naruto made a 'Why are _you_ calling _me_?' face at the phone.

"Sorry for bothering you, but… have you seen Sasuke at all today? Talked to him lately?" The man's voice sounded faint and a little raspy, but Naruto dismissed it as the buzz that always altered one's voice on the phone.

"No, why would I have seen that… Er, no, I haven't," he said, slight concern in his voice.

"Oh… Alright. Well, if you see him, tell him to call me. Alright?"

"Yeah, sure… why?"

There was a thin, waning silence and Naruto became slightly concerned that he had overstepped his boundaries. A moment or two passed and the buzz crackled as Itachi started talking once more.

"It's just that… I…I think Sasuke has run away."

o

The waiting room of the clinic smelled a little too clean, as if someone were trying to cover something up with its pungently disinfected smell. In any case, that overpowering stench accompanied by people was doing nothing to help Ukon recover from his lack of sleep of the night before as he sat in a corner chair, knees pulled to his chest as his head lolled back against the wall.

He supposed it was his fault; he had been the one to go out to a party along with Temari, Kankurou and a few others and have a few too many of those drinks and… Well, the rest was history (though he still couldn't remember who that candy-cane smelling boy who kissed magnificently while they were in the coat closet together was). Sakon, of course, had had the unpleasant task of dragging his older twin out of bed the following morning so they could make a little visit to the clinic.

A child's shrieking laughter filled the air, and Ukon winced.

"Hey…" Someone prodded his shoulder lightly, and the lavender-haired boy forced himself to look up. Sakon stood over him, holding their coats.

"I'm done," he said. "We can go."

Ukon nodded, but still hesitated to move. "What'd he say?"

Sakon cocked an eyebrow. "What did who say?"

"The nice man in the white coat, that's who."

He sighed. "Results will be back in 7 to 10 days or so. They'll call."

"Alright then," Ukon didn't bother to put his coat on fully, just hanging it on his shoulders enough so it wouldn't easily fall off. "Help me up, would you?"

Sakon rolled his eyes, but did anyways.

They made their way out of the clinic, walking so close they had to be careful not to stumble over each other (Ukon's hand had found its way onto Sakon's back, comfortingly) and took the first door out onto the street. It was mid-day, but the sun was hidden behind a thick layering of ash-grey cloud, so the world looked a bit dim, especially with the many trails of exhaust fume wafting upwards from the cars that lined the roads like filthy dominoes.

Among the many burnt-out shades, though, was a spot of colour leaning against a telephone pole. Ukon's feet stopped short as he saw her, and Sakon had to catch himself as not to tumble down into the gutter.

It didn't take long for Tayuya to spot them, a stretched smiling making its way onto her face.

"Merry fucking Christmas, gentleman," she greeted them, taking broad steps over. She looked pretty much normal, considering how much had happened in the past while. They had not seen her since the Wednesday before school let out, and those days felt as though they had been stretched into months forming craters between them. She held a plastic bag in her hand, two rental DVDs peeking out the top.

"Hi, Tayuya-chan…" Ukon replied. "How've you been?"

"Um, kinda shitty, actually," she laughed, voice sounding a little hoarse. "I was just picking up some movies to watch with someone… What about you two?"

"Tired," he admitted, "but it's not that bad. Least there's no school."

"Got that right." Tayuya half-smiled and turned to Sakon. "What about you, quiet boy? Sick?"

He shrugged.

"C'mon. You came out of the clinic; why else would you be there?"

Ukon half-expected his brother to come up with some witty excuse and the conversation would somehow be able to uphold its light demeanour, but Sakon just stared at the ground, shifting his weight a little. The weight of the silence pressed on, nearly unbearable, until Ukon jabbed Sakon lightly with his elbow.

"Look," he muttered, "I know this doesn't seem the time, but if you're not going to tell her now, I am. I can't stand this; it's so stupid. I'm sorry, but it's not going to get any better this way, so-"

Tayuya's arched eyebrows crinkled in confusion that was trying not to suspect the worst. "Ukon-chan, what are you-"

"Fine," Sakon muttered. He allowed himself time for two breaths before daring to meet Tayuya's eye. "You're going to hate me, but _fine_.

"Tayuya," another breath, "I did something stupid a while ago. I liked Kimimaro. I slept with Kimimaro once, just once, on impulse. We didn't do anything like it again, and I promise I won't ever, and I'm-I'm sorry. It was stupid. Even if you don't believe me, I am, so sorry, and…" His eyes flickered for a second to the clinic door. "Ukon told me about… about Kimimaro being…sick, so I was getting tests done… just to be sure. That's all.

"I didn't mean to screw you guys up. I wasn't thinking. Damnit…" He exhaled deeply.

"Kimimaro didn't get… get sick from Sakon," Ukon felt obliged to add. "Tayuya, honey?"

Her purple-gloved hands had dropped from her hips to swing limply at her sides. She was looking not at either of the two, but in between them, expression serious but not quite upset.

"You fucked him," she said.

"…mmhmm."

Tayuya's eyes slipped from focus. "You fucked him… how…how could you? No, no don't answer it. My fucking God, Sakon, I… He… I can hardly believe this! No, no… shit."

The twins stood silent, allowing her continue to rambling.

"Alright… No, it's not alright…not alright at all." She let her head dip down before swinging it back up, pushing her hair behind her ears. "Okay. Um… fuck. Thank you for telling me that, actually, Sakon. I'd been thinking that… someone… alright. I still can't…you… _fuck_ you… it's still better that you _told_ me that, but… Damn. You know what? I think I'm gonna go to my fucking Hell of a home now, so… see you two later…"

"Are you sure you're okay?" Ukon asked after her as she began to turn.

In response, she shrugged. The corners of her mouth snagged, trying to keep from wilting as tears pushed at her lashes. "Okay? Hell no! How could I be? But there's no fucking point in sitting around and crying about it all winter vaca. It's life. I'm going to deal with whatever bullshit it gives me. I'm not going to be a little wimp let this mess me up. _Okay_, Ukon?"

He nodded. "If you're certain."

"Dad wants me home in a few hours; we've gotta go to some dumbass family gathering so I don't really have a choice on the leaving," she explained. "And yeah, I think I'm certain. Of course I'm fucking mad, and it hurts like a bitch, but… it's better then having you _lie_ to me, right?"

The twins nodded in a simultaneous way that was almost cute and childlike, giving her a cue to exit stage right by jaywalking across a lane of traffic, giving a truck driver the finger as he swerved to avoid her.

"Can we go home now?" Sakon murmured into Ukon's shoulder, overcome with relief. His brother nodded and they began down the sidewalk in their odd gait once more, watching each other's feet.

o

A heavy drum solo pounded in the ears of the teen as he stretched himself out on the bus stop bench, glad that no one else was occupying it at the time. It was strangely and yet peacefully quiet on the far edges of town where the bus stop was, though harshly cold. The last house he had seen had been about a thirty-minute walk back and there wasn't as much traffic as he had expected. No one around. Just him, in the early evening darkness.

He checked his watch again; 10 more minutes until the bus would come.

10 more minutes until freedom.

Or so there would have been if a slightly rusty red car, painfully familiar, hadn't pulled up in front of the bus station with a squeal of brakes and the door shot open.

"Uchiha Sasuke, get your ass in this car right now!" Kisame shouted, irate.

Sasuke stared for a moment, irritation spreading over his face.

"No. Why the Hell should I?" he spat.

"Sasuke."

"I don't have to listen to you," Sasuke argued. "I'm leaving for a while; shouldn't you be happy about that?"

"You're going to get in this car and come home with me, or I'm going to drag you in here myself," Kisame growled, reaching over to undo his seatbelt. "Don't think I won't do it!"

"I doubt it."

As quickly as the Uchiha said these words Kisame had stepped out of the car. He was quite a bit taller than Sasuke, and capable of following through on his threats.

"Now."

"I don't…" Kisame's sharp glare cut him off, and Sasuke realized, rather bitterly, that he had been caught. "Fine. I'll get in your fucking car! Are you fucking happy now? Merry _fucking_ Christmas Kisame, why don't you just go home and _fuck my brother_ already!"

"Stop being such a baby and hurry up." Kisame responded, unfazed.

Grumbling curses under his breath, Sasuke picked up his duffel bag from the bench and stuffed his Discman inside. Kisame watched him as he literally threw the bag into the back seat and hopped in beside it, crossed his arms, and began glaring at the back of Kisame's headrest. The older quickly realized there was no way in Hell he was going to convince Sasuke to put on his seatbelt, so he took off down the road.

"How did you find me?" the brooding teen asked finally, after a long bout of silence in which he kept his eyes glued on his knees where he traced patterns with his fingernails on black denim.

Kisame grinned, glancing at him in the rear-view mirror. "Look, there's one thing you have to understand here. I didn't get you because I wanted to. I'm only here because I couldn't stand to see your brother spend any more time worrying over you."

"That's a lie! Itachi wasn't-"

Kisame nodded. "Believe it, brat."

_11:30 am._

_All he had left was a note on the kitchen counter scribbled on the back of a sheet of scrap paper. It read 'Don't expect me back.' No signature. No explanation._

_All Kisame could see were Itachi's shaking hands._

"You should've seen… he phoned all your stupid little friends to see if they knew where you went; he was worried _sick_, you ungrateful idiot." Kisame shook his head. "Finally, he mentioned you might be going to some summerhouse that your family used to own that no one lives in a few towns over, so I offered to take a run down."

"But you-"

"There's only one bus route that goes there from Konoha, and only one bus going through today, you know that. It was just luck that I got here before the bus did," he said. "I can't believe you though, kid. Taking off the morning of the day before Christmas…! Do you have any idea what shape that put Itachi in? _Do you?_"

"Itachi doesn't-"

"Have you been listening to me at all?" Kisame asked loudly, causing Sasuke to flinch. The teen's defences were weakened, the words beginning to sink in and settle. "If your brother wanted to, he could just leave you to Children's Aid and come live on the University Campus with the rest of us. That would save him the drive every day and a lot of work, but no! He insists on staying with you, and working to feed you and clothe you! Why the Hell would he do that if he didn't care about you?"

"I didn't know," Sasuke mumbled, "that he would even…care."

Kisame half-snorted, keeping his eyes on the road. "Well he does. A lot more people care about you then you realize, if only you'd stop pushing everyone away and shutting everyone out."

"That's not true either!"

"Yes it is! Why don't you get it? It's like you're addicted to your own misery or something. Get over it! You're only hurting yourself and everyone who's trying to help you!"

"I didn't _know_…How could you know anyways? Oh, screw it all," said Sasuke, the edge to his voice waning, and Kisame sighed.

"Look, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have yelled at you like that. But it's Christmas. Try to enjoy yourself, okay brat?"

Sasuke leaned his head against the window, watching his breath turn into condensation. His fingertips touched the cold surface of the window aimlessly, water droplets clinging to his skin where it touched glass.

"_A lot more people care about you then you realize, if only you'd stop pushing everyone away and shutting everyone out."_

'Is that true?'

He began tracing letters in the foggy spot formed by his breath, trying to stay calm and not to let his mind take sides on him.

_N-A-R-U-_

"Okay, Sasuke?" Kisame asked, peering back at him.

"Yeah, sorry… I was just thinking."

Kisame chuckled. "Well, what a nice change."

o

Gaara's mouth tasted dryly and yet richly of wine as he ran his tongue over his gum to pick up any remnants.

"Kankurou," he said into the darkness of their bedroom.

"Yes?"

"…I like wine."

Snorting laughter erupted in the other bed. "Holy crap! How much did they let you have, anyways?"

"Just a bit," Gaara answered, amused.

"Yeah right…"

Actually, he had had about a glassful, though he had added a citrus-flavoured soda to it at first to weaken the taste. The evening had gone by in a little bit smoother – from his point of view, anyways – from that point on.

Earlier in the week, their caretaker had told them they were going to be spending Christmas Eve with her family. They did not really mind, but the only somewhat dressy clothing the three siblings owned was black, save Temari's white blouse, and Kankurou remarked that it looked like they were going to a funeral of sorts as opposed to Christmas dinner.

At least that comment killed a little bit of the tension.

In reality, the dinner did not turn out that bad. Mariko had a brother who worked in a bank and had a sense of humour to rival Kankurou's own, which provided entertainment between and during Christmas specials on TV. He had two children, a boy Temari's age that was a little full of himself ("A perverted smart-ass;" Temari grumbled, "your typical man), and another son of about ten that insisted on following Gaara around while they waited for dinner to be ready, rambling on about all sorts of things.

"Gaara-nii-san! Gaara-nii-san! Why are your eyes so funny?"

"My eyes are funny, eh?"

"You look like a racoon!"

"Oh, that. It's just eyeliner."

"What's that?"

"You put it on your eyes."

"Why?"

"Because I like it."

"You're _weird_, Gaara-nii-san. Hey, hey, can you put some of your eye stuff on me? Pleeeeeease?"

Gaara had finally managed to escape the hyperactive child once dinner was ready, as he took a seat between Temari and Kankurou. It was a habit developed over the years, the older two protecting Gaara and answering or providing distractions from any awkward questions. However, they found there were none.

Mariko's parents were sweet old people, hard of hearing and found of giving everyone different coloured socks as gifts. There was a strange balance of the family, between joking, story-telling and earnest conversation, that willingly absorbed the three newcomers. Mariko's father even offered them wine, which Gaara ended up having a bit too much of. It lessened his guard, and before he knew it, he was laughing freely along with the rest of them. Unaware and blissful…

"So what did you think of the family, pipsqueak?' Kankurou asked, rolling over onto his stomach.

Gaara shrugged, then realized it wouldn't be seen. "It was… different. I dunno."

Kankurou nodded, but he was looking at the door. "You can come in, Temari. I know you're there."

The door opened a crack, and coloured spots of light speckled the wall behind Gaara as light from the Christmas tree shone in, disappearing for a second as Temari slipped in, pillow and blanket in hand. She lay the pillow down on the floor in between the two beds, then sat down and wrapped the blanket around her form.

"I liked Mariko-san's family," she whispered. "Not that one cousin, but the rest of them were nice."

"I guess."

"It was different," repeated Gaara, having no other way to put it. "Good different."

"Compared with what happened before, how could it be bad different?" Kankurou asked.

The room was doused in silence.

"This is," Temari started quietly, "our first Christmas without Dad… It feels weird, doesn't it?"

"A little," Kankurou admitted, which, of course, meant 'a lot'.

She nodded. "I mean… it wasn't like this before. I wasn't happy like I am now. Sure, Dad wasn't bad all the time so I miss his good side, but I was always afraid and paranoid, you know? It isn't like that there. They were… just so _happy_."

"We weren't nearly the family they are," uttered Kankurou lowly.

"I want to be." Temari smiled a little. "I know things won't be easy for any of us… I mean, well, Gaara's having a bit of a rough time with some things, and issues with some people I know are kind of bad, but…"

"Wait," Kankurou interjected. "What things with what people?"

"None of your business."

"_Temari_."

"I agree with her," said Gaara softly. He had been quiet for a while, staring at the ceiling as his eyelids begged to close. His body hadn't been this eager to go to sleep in a long time…

"Thank you, Gaara," Temari said. "Kankurou?"

"What?"

Temari rolled her eyes. "You know."

"Well… yeah… I guess. Whatever you guys want."

Knowing the translation, Temari smiled. "Anyways… well, I guess that's all I wanted to say. Would you guys mind if I slept here?"

"Why not?" Kankurou yawned, letting his head fall back to his pillow. "Goodnight guys."

"Goodnight, Kankurou. Gaara."

"You too… Merry Christmas."

And as he slipped in sleep, various thoughts and people flitting in his mind's eye _(Neji, Kankurou, Temari, Father, Neji)_, Gaara was smiling.

o

_8:00 – Christmas Eve._

The apartment seemed so _empty_, the spaces between the tiny, artificial Christmas tree in the corner and the other assorted pieces of furniture magnified to a painfully large size. The sound around him seemed muffled, the quiet chattering of the people sitting on the couch across from him and soft crackling of interference on the radio in the kitchen (set on a station that played Christmas music constantly; Sasuke had hated it). But maybe it was just Itachi.

He sat slouched over on one of the chairs he had dragged over from the kitchen, staring rather inattentively at his knees. He had been withdrawn and sullen the entire day, and not in the way he usually was. On his chapped lips, one could see long raw strips where he had peeled off the skin with his teeth from worry.

"…and the damn saleslady thought I was a woman, yeah!" Deidara continued on to fill the awkward void, tossing a piece of silly putty from one hand to the next. "I am never shopping there again!"

Sasori cleared his throat, shooting Deidara a _look_. The two, along with Kisame, had been invited to spend Christmas Eve at Itachi's, as none of them were very fond of University parties and had nowhere else to be but with friends.

"Look, Itachi-san, I'm sure that-"

Sasori was cut off by the sound of the front door opening. Itachi's body jerked up abruptly into sitting position, eyes fixated on the door. His slender fingers clutched at his knees so tightly they shook, muscles taught and mind riddled with a stifling anxiety.

"We're home!" came Kisame's, and two pairs (Itachi almost thought he was hearing things) of footsteps walked in, followed by the closing of the door. The were a few vague noises – something not too heavy being dropped, the rustling of clothing, socks over linoleum – and two figures appeared from around the corner of the small living area.

"Sasuke."

It was odd; the only times Itachi had ever touched Sasuke since the unfortunate death of their parents (and since Sasuke decided that was Itachi's fault), were small, insignificant instances. A brushing of limbs by accident, Itachi's hand on his brother's shoulder in effort of reassurance, Sasuke's hand swatting his away. So it was only natural the younger brother would have no idea how to react when he found his older brother's arms wrapped around his shoulders, Itachi's cheek brushing the side of his head. The first thing he thought of, oddly enough, was how short his brother was. Itachi had always seemed taller to him, somehow, but Sasuke could now see he was quite a bit less than a foot away from reaching his brother's height.

"Itachi…"

"We waited for you," Itachi said quietly, and Sasuke's eye caught the still-wrapped pile of presents sitting by the fake-tree. "I was hoping… I was worried, Sasuke. _God_."

"I…"

Itachi pulled away just enough so he could look Sasuke straight in the eye. "Don't ever do that again!"

"I'm sorry…" Sasuke leaned into the embrace a little. Realizing.

o

_Dated: December 25_

_Dear Gaara,_

_Merry Christmas. Again, I wish we weren't so far apart right now… I hope you're doing well. How was that Christmas party Sakura had for all of you? I know that even if you didn't want to go, Naruto and Kiba probably dragged you there; they did that to me last year._

_You might have noticed the CD enclosed with this letter. That would be just one part of your present. It's by a fairly successful local band that was playing a show in the club across the street last night, and I thought you might like it. I'm still surprised Hiashi let me go, even with that annoying chaperone stalking me._

_In any case, I-_

"Neji-nii-san?"

Neji's pen dropped to the desk as he looked up at Hinata, hand shifting slightly as to shield the paper.

"W-we're opening gifts now," she told him demurely, hair mussed from sleep. "Are you coming?"

He nodded, returning her hint of a smile. "I'll be right there."

_-I'm enjoying Paris, but can't wait to get home, and see you. I really do miss you, Gaara._

_Love,_

_Neji_

End chapter 24


	25. At Arm's Length

**Carousel**

Chapter 25: At Arm's Length

Notes: I apologize for how long this took. Between exams, my current J-rock and Death Note obsessions, and general laziness, it just kept getting put off. Sorry for the wait, and if this isn't up to par. Oh, and we're dangerously near to 300 reviews! Since I'm in a good mood, reviewer 300 gets to request a drabble from me and imaginary confetti.

I disclaim.

o

Gaara licked at the sweet stickiness on his fingertips that had been left by yet another cherry-flavoured candy cane. He could feel the residue on his wind-chapped lips, the aftertaste strong and syrupy. Temari had given him a large box of said candy canes for Christmas, and he had to admit, they were rather addicting (to the point where he sometimes found himself eating them without realizing, even). Luckily, though, it was a _very_ big box and he still had quite a few left, although the one he just finished was the last one he had with him at the time, leaving two crumpled plastic wrappers in his deep coat pocket.

The redhead was sitting on the steps to the Hyuuga mansion, thin ankles crossed and gloved hands now pressed between his thighs for warmth. There was no wind, but the air was still deathly cold. It felt thin in his lungs, empty almost, skin stinging from the harshness of it. He felt suddenly rather bitter that the black fedora resting on his head didn't come down far enough to cover his ears.

According to one of Neji's letters, the family should have arrived home from the airport earlier that morning. Gaara had decided to stop by in the afternoon to visit (approximately ten minutes ago now), not wanting to come too early and be a bother. However, it appeared they hadn't yet made it home, as the door was locked and the driveway was vacant of vehicles; the snow around the matching immaculate white house untouched. The only trail of footsteps belonged to him, aside from the various ones from animals scattered about the yard, mostly lines of bird feet.

Another five minutes dragged by, during which Gaara had started to entertain himself by drawing thoughtless patterns in the snow until his fingertips could take no more. He had started to consider walking back home and giving Neji a call sometime later when the sound of gravel crunching beneath the wheels of an SUV called for his attention. Gaara got to his feet, quickly wiping the snow-doodles from their steps as an afterthought. The dark-coloured vehicle rolled to a stop just outside the garage (windows shading what was inside) and Gaara felt something catch in his chest as Neji hopped out of the backseat, pulling his suitcase along with him. For a few moments, the redhead just stared, absorbing the sight of him, every detail just as he remembered.

_Those lips and those eyes, that neck and those hands…_

It had only been two weeks or so, but time, being funny like it is, always made it feel longer and shorter in an odd way. However, it stopped mattering because there Neji was – real and vibrant.

"Hey!" he called to Gaara, who waved shyly as he came forward to greet the Hyuuga. "What are you doing here?"

"Waiting." Gaara shrugged. "You said you'd be here in the morning, so I came over a few minutes ago…"

Neji raised his eyebrows a little, then shook his head. "Idiot. It's cold; you should've gone home instead of standing out here waiting for me."

Gaara started a bashful reply, but before the words could form out of the jumbled thoughts in his mind and reach his lips, he was cut off by the touch of Neji's hands to his shoulders, and Neji's lips on his. It was a little surprising that Neji had dared to kiss him right then and there in front of his uncle and cousins, but the worry and slight embarrassment quickly dissipated in the warmth that never failed to surprise him. His own hands, slow to react as the cold had slipped through the spaces in the thin cotton of his gloves, held Neji's elbows gently. The kiss deepened, and their whole 'just friends' cover was entirely blown as Gaara felt Neji nibble at his lower lip gently before Gaara's lips parted and the brunette slipped his tongue into the other's mouth.

_Sensation._

They probably would have continued further if not for a high-pitched squeal from Hanabi, who had just come around from the other side of the van.

"Hinata!" she said, pointing. "Neji just kissed…"

The two boys pulled apart, and Gaara tried to hide his blushing face behind Neji's shoulder as much as he could to avoid the glances of Neji's family (Hinata already knew, it seemed, but it was still slightly awkward).

Hinata laughed quietly, and put a hand on her younger sister's arm. "You can tease them for how cute it is later, alright? I think O-Ojii-san wants us to unpack…"

Hanabi gave her a slightly annoyed look, still looking dubious. "Alright…"

"Ignore her," Neji said quietly to Gaara. "Let's go inside."

"You sure it's okay?" Gaara asked unsurely.

Neji snorted. "Yes, I'm sure. You've been out in the cold for a long time waiting, there's no way I'm going to let you stay out here."

Gaara nodded, and let himself be lead into the main foyer of the house.

Neji's bedroom was the same as well, and he liked the familiarity, the feeling of something constant he could hang onto. It seemed silly, he thought to himself as he lay back on the cold bed-sheets, to think it wouldn't be the same, but for some reason he had. The notion that Neji might not have come back, or that he might have come back _different_ and not wanted him anymore; those kinds of thoughts spiralled darkly in Gaara's mind at night and scared him, giving him doubt and all those other things Neji had taken away.

Until morning, of course. When morning came, there were always two little blue pills sitting beside his orange juice, offering to vanish it (like magic!) for another day.

"How was Paris?" he asked, rolling over to watch Neji as he started taking the things out of his suitcase.

Neji glanced back over his shoulder. "Pretty good, I guess. Nothing really interesting happened though aside from the stuff I told you in the letters…"

"Well, can you tell me anyways?" asked Gaara. "Just anything?"

_Just let me hear your voice, just let me see you're real, please, I need to…_

"Sure," Neji mumbled. He caught that desperate sort of yearning look like glass in Gaara's eye and knowing, not fully but enough. Talking wasn't his forte, so the words came quietly, slightly forced, but the sound was more than sufficient for Gaara closed his eyes and filled his mind with.

Eventually, Neji reached an end of things to say and the suitcase was nearly empty; he hadn't brought that much, after all. Gaara was still laying stomach-down on the bed with his head resting on his arms and his hat tipped down over his closed-lid eyes. Denim rustled as Neji crouched down by the edge of the bed to look Gaara in the face, reaching forward a hand to tip up his hat. Gaara opened one eye to look at him.

"Nice hat," Neji said simply. "It looks good on you."

Instantly, a blush filled Gaara's cheeks. He stumbled in attempt for words. "T-thanks, I… Kankurou got it for me."

"Did you have a good Christmas?"

Gaara nodded a little. "Pretty much. It was kinda weird. I'm not used to getting so much stuff. Back when it was… Dad and Temari and Kankurou and me, we just sort of stayed inside and exchanged gifts but it usually wasn't all that… I dunno. Festive, or friendly, or whatever. This year was a lot better, for a lot of reasons. But I missed you."

Neji took this in, running a finger along the brim of Gaara's hat. Soft black felt. "I missed you too. And were you… good?"

Good; as in not doing anything bad.

Gaara knew what it meant.

He gave a little nod again, and his hat slipped down over chunks of vibrant red hair that was beginning to grow a little long; long enough to hang into his eyes, anyways. Neji's hand slipped down to his cheek.

"Thank you."

He dug his elbows into the mattress, intending to prop himself up a little with them to move closer to Neji. Neji had been doing the same, leaving time for a slight moment of mutual but not embarrassing awkwardness before Neji dared lean a little further and Gaara decided to meet him halfway.

_Sensation!_

Real.

In that instant, Gaara could hardly believe he had doubted it.

o

"God, I can't believe we have to go back to school already!" Temari moaned, running a hand through her hair for what was probably the tenth time that morning. "I think I've forgotten everything I learned in school over break, and with exams coming up… _shiiit_."

Kankurou rolled his eyes. "Get a grip, will you? Women…"

Temari ignored him, sipping at the large travel-mug of coffee she had brought with her during their walk to school that morning clutched tightly with her pink-knuckled hands. She handed it to Gaara every once in a while so he could have a bit. It was a little scary how much he was starting to like the stuff. The redhead took one long last sip before saying a quick good-bye and heading towards a fair-sized crowd standing outside his school. Temari watched, scanning the tops of heads she could see briefly and settling on a certain familiar one…

'Lazy-ass.'

Temari didn't think about her relationship Shikamaru all that much; it was more the kind of thing that just existed without question, and it was better that way. Still, it did strike her as quite odd sometimes. He was a lot younger than she was – well, three years or so – and he generally was not at all the type of person she usually would imagine herself in the company of, but for some reason… she really liked being with him. Their interaction was relaxing, comforting in a way. But it _was_ sort of weird and so other people would definitely think, and maybe that was the reason she tried not think of it so much, as not bring any complication into it. Like she could really use anymore of that…

A sudden jolt of pain shot through her side and she stumbled, one arm flailing as she tried to find steady ground for her feet to stand on. Once fairly steady (and after checking to see whether she had spilled any coffee), she turned angrily to Kankurou.

"What the Hell was that for, you ass!"

"Hm?"

"You elbowed me and I slipped!" she yelled.

Ostensibly uncaring, Kankurou flicked his eyes over to where she had before been staring suspiciously. "So, which one of them is your little boyfriend?"

"What?" she glared at him. "I don't have a boyfriend."

"Oh, come on, Gaara said he saw you two-"

She shook her head firmly. "No. We're just friends."

"Oh, really?" said Kankurou sarcastically. "You don't need to hide it from me, Tem."

"I'm not-"

He interjected before she could get any further. "But you _have_ been, and not just with this. You've been involved with _things_ about _people_ that I can't know about. What am I supposed to think about that?"

Eyes narrowing defensively, Temari began walking a little faster. "Maybe it's just none of your business. Hm?"

"Well, what-"

"_Look_," she said, "if I could tell you, I might, but I honestly can't. Not yet. We'll see what happens today, alright?"

Kankurou eyed her warily. "Alright. If you say so."

Sighing, Temari sipped at her coffee, annoyed to find that some of the heat had escaped and it was now lukewarm. She grimaced and held the cup out to Kankurou reluctantly.

"Want any?" she asked.

"Naw, I'm good."

Once they reached the high school, Temari went off her own way and disappeared into the crowd, while Kankurou headed up to his locker on one of the second floor hallways. It was called the 'Dirt Hallway', and not just because the lighting made it look grimy and there was always a plethora of garbage on the floor; couples seemed to flock to the hallway to make out whenever they had a spare moment. Kankurou had always thought it was truly amazing what some people were comfortable doing in public.

Zaku, Dosu and Kin, who was resting in Zaku's arms, were leaning against one of the oddly coloured locker near his with backpacks slung over their shoulders. Kankurou gave them a wave and started on his lock combination, vaguely aware of the teacher that had begun yelling at Dosu.

"Young man! Take off your hood right this instant, or you'll be sent down to the office!"

Dosu cast one eye lazily at her. "What? Why?"

The middle-aged woman glared at him. "Because hoods suggest gang-related activity! Now remove it!"

Smirking at Zaku, who was trying not to dissolve in a bout of laughter, Dosu removed the hood only to reveal a toque covering his head.

"Happy now, madam?"

"The hat too," she said sharply and headed off down the hall. As soon as she was out of hearing range, Zaku nearly collapsed in his mirth, distracting the attention of quite a few people mulling about with his howls. Kin glared at him, but he took no notice.

"'Gang-related activity'! Are you in a _gang_, Dosu? HAHA!"

"Shut up, man. Stupid bitch," Dosu muttered, turning to Kankurou. "Oy! Someone was here for you, uh… Ukon. Yeah."

"Oh?" Kankurou asked, swinging his lock open. "What about?"

"Yer sister or something. He needed to talk to your sister…" Dosu shrugged. "Can't remember. You going to first period?"

Kankurou shrugged. "I might as well. I mean-"

"KANKUROU-KUUUUUN!"

Something heavy and partially bright yellow suddenly latched onto his shoulder and Kankurou looked down to find Ukon hanging off of him with a gigantic purple smile.

'Is he in on it?' Kankurou thought suddenly, and with slight discomfort. 'Is that why he wanted to find to Temari? Because he knows about that stuff that she knows that she won't tell me? Wait, how many people know? Am I the only one, or…

'Just what's going on here?'

"Hey Ukon…" he managed.

"Hey yourself." Ukon quickly let go of Kankurou and righted himself. "Where's that lovely sister of yours?"

"I dunno; she's here somewhere. Probably went to her locker…"

Ukon shook his head, causing the metallic beads strung around his neck to clack against one another. As usual, the boy had managed to put together a crazy sort of outfit that was just bad enough to look good.

"Nuh-uh, she's not there!" he sang.

"Well, I don't think I can help you then," said Kankurou, trying to avert his eyes from Ukon's girlish pout. "Why, is it something important?"

"Kinda…"

"Can you tell me what-" Kankurou cursed mentally as the ball rang loudly all through the hallway, cutting him off.

"Crappit! I've gotta run!" Ukon exclaimed. "See you guys at lu-unch!" He blew Kankurou an overdramatic kiss before turning and scampering off down the hallway, earning another bout of odd looks and rolled eyes from the group of girls dressed in tight jeans and too much makeup, and the boys in brand name T-shirts and smirks. Kankurou ignored the stares and shoved what binders he needed into his backpack before going off to class, thoughts and suspicions simmering in his mind.

If there was one thing Kankurou knew for sure was that no matter how pleasant things may seem, it is never perfect. There can always be, and usually is an underlying something else, a something not right _(not-at-all)_; well hidden and too often ignored, but always there.

o

The hallways were crowded and deafening, cluttered with an army of zombies, or rather, half-asleep and unenthusiastic students displeased at being back at school. Sasuke could hear them through the thick door he leaned against – girls catching up on gossip, some boys cheerfully exchanging snowboarding-injury stories; pointless chatter in too-loud voices. Fishing through the backpack at his feet, he pulled out a small bottle containing a few Advil. All week he had been plagued with pounding headaches, to the point where it felt like someone jumped on his head every night when he managed to get to sleep, so Itachi had let him take a few to school.

But only a few, Itachi had told him cautiously.

'Who the fuck tries to overdose on Advil anyways?'

They were bitter-bland on his tongue and he had to tip his head all the back and try a few times to actual get them down, but the option of going back inside to get a drink from the cafeteria was unappealing. It wasn't that cold outside anyways. At least there was no wind, only the vague noises of distant traffic to stick pins into the numb insides of his ears.

"I thought you'd be out here."

'Damn.'

Sasuke winced at the voice, feeling a brief rush of warm air against his side as the door swung closed. Naruto stood on the other side of it in his vividly orange parka, peering at him with one of those _looks_.

"So." he said, simple as that, and the Uchiha could already feel himself begin to unravel.

Sinking his teeth into the insides of his lower lip lightly to keep his mouth shut, Sasuke mentally began cursing Naruto's straightforward and tactless nature. Since their fight, they had not spoken word now syllable to each other, though the catching of eyes had almost become a common event. Those sticking, undeniable gazes; uncontrollable and often regrettably enjoyable. It was funny, the way, Sasuke downright detested every little thing about Naruto in the same way he enjoyed all of them in a way he did not think he should. Those quirks – his stubbornness, determination, the way he was so ecstatic for ramen, the stupid things he would say…

The way he had actually managed to put up with Sasuke for so long.

So much of what Naruto had given were good memories, and it sent his mind into a panicked indecision. He really did not want to have to deal with it just then, he really did not want to deal with _Naruto_ of all people; he really did not want to deal with their relationship (whatever it was), and he _really_ did not want to…

"Your brother called me," Naruto said blatantly, "that day you ran away, to see if I knew where you were. And he called me the day after to say you came back okay."

"Yeah. I know." replied Sasuke, though he hadn't known at all.

Naruto crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall. "Why did you do something stupid like that, anyways?"

"It's nothing; not that you need to know," Sasuke muttered. "Okay? I have a really bad headache, and I just want to be left alone. Why are you out here to talking to _me_ anyways?" It didn't make sense, nothing did. "I thought you hated me or…"

"You're so goddamn stupid!"

One of Sasuke's hands flew to his temple of its own accord, eyes squeezing tightly closed as his skull began to throb once more. "Fuck…" he muttered, turning his face away so Naruto couldn't see.

"I don't hate you," Naruto continued, his voice dropping to a quieter but still determined tone. He took a step forwards, snow snapping and crunching beneath his shoes. "You're a total prick and you piss me off a lot of the time, but I don't _hate_ you. Never did."

Never will?

Massaging his scalp lightly with his fingers, Sasuke remained quiet. He was slightly surprised Naruto was telling him this and unsure as to why. Looking up, he discovered just how close Naruto had come to him, now only a few steps away. Pulling his eyes from the blonde, he stared at the ground. Not at Naruto. Don't look at Naruto, stop wanting to look at Naruto, stop…

"Why did you try to run away?" Naruto asked, again so frankly.

"I don't know…," said Sasuke, shaking his head.

"Yes you do. Why?"

Sasuke didn't answer.

"It was stupid, you know."

"Yeah."

"The day before Christmas."

"I know."

"So why did you-"

"Just shut up!" Sasuke hissed. "Why do you keep pressing this?"

"I want to know." said Naruto, faltering a second before adding a little quieter, "You worried me. A bit."

For a second after this was said, the Uchiha stared at him rather blankly. Cheeks filled with an overdose of pink from the cold, he tried not to shiver, and slowly exhaled in hazy white wisps. A car sped by on the road, giving a distraction within the rolling bass of its radio for just a moment, and Sasuke indulged himself in it thoroughly. Unfortunately, his mind was pulled back in a second later as the sound faded and he became aware of Naruto hand cupping his elbow gently through his coat. When, he wondered, had he started shaking so violently, his entire body quivering? Weakly.

"Look at me." Naruto said, and Sasuke complied. Blue eyes searched his face, leaving Sasuke feeling desperate and exposed. He hated those feelings that were quickly capsizing him, and wanted to escape so badly! He hated the way it seemed Naruto could figure out what Sasuke was hiding with hardly a second glance, knew the things to say to get under his skin…

Pathetic, pathetic, _pathetic_, he thought, wanting to choke. Did Naruto see this too, the way he could hardly control himself?

_Worn so thin…_

Another noise came, another glorious distraction as they both looked over to the door that had just opened beside them. Gaara had stepped out a bit, hesitating as he caught sigh of them.

"Oh." He said, quietly. Then, "_Oh_. Sorry. I was just, uh… has Neji come out this way?"

Naruto didn't withdraw his hand from Sasuke as he pivoted and answered Gaara. "No, we haven't seen him come out this way."

"You sure?"

"Well, I saw him a while ago, and I don't think he went out." Naruto told him. "Why?"

"Can't find him… but thanks…" Gaara murmured, raising a hand to his mouth to nibble at one of his pale fingernails as he hurried back inside, long black coat trailing behind.

Sasuke was tempted to escape from Naruto just then, but the blonde's hand had moved from his arm up to his shoulder. Worst of all, though, was that Naruto was _smiling_ at him. Of all things…

"Sasuke-teme."

"Dobe." He muttered.

Naruto tipped his head back a little and laughed. "So, what I came out here to say was don't pull any more stupid things like that. You idiot."

"_A lot more people care about you then you realize,"_ Kisame had said._ "If only you'd stop pushing everyone away and shutting everyone out."_

Sasuke was surprised, but only a little bit, as Naruto leaned in closer in a deliberate sort of way. "You really don't get it at all, you know! I hate you; yeah right! Sometimes I wonder if there's something wrong with your head or something because…"

They were so close.

"…you moron, what will running away solve? You can't just run away from it all? Got me?"

Sasuke felt Naruto's hand tighten, release, then dart away to punch lightly him in the shoulder. "Hey! You listening?"

"Yeah," Sasuke muttered. "I get it, okay?"

Lips, cheeks, _eyes_; the brunette found himself stuck looking at Naruto (and Naruto at him). Even if he hadn't meant it the first time, he got it then. Yes, he got it. Not that it wasn't obvious as Naruto's eyelids lowered and he was suddenly so _close_ that Sasuke could feel warm breath against his neck, a shudder running through him. Lips, cheeks, eyes, then lips…

"Naruto."

The blonde gave Sasuke a questioning look as he shifted backwards, eyes fixated just over Naruto's shoulder.

"I get it," he mumbled, "or at least I think I do… what you're getting at here but… Not yet. Lately I've just been so out of it."

"I've noticed," commented Naruto, and Sasuke smirked.

"Figures. I just need a little time to get things sorted out with me. Before we, uh…"

Naruto raised an eyebrow. "What are you suggesting?"

"Eh?"

"Did you think I was gonna _kiss_ you just now?" Naruto asked incredulously. At the horrified expression on Sasuke's face, he snorted laughter. "Kidding, kidding, you know me. I'm okay with giving you time, but don't go thinking I'm going to wait for you forever."

"I know."

"Do you?"

Sasuke shifted forwards again, hair falling over his face. He swept it back, smirking in a glad sort of way, however he managed that (but Naruto liked it).

"Of course I do, dobe."

Again, the words fell across his mind; _"A lot more people care about you than you realize…"_

As much as Sasuke hated when he was wrong, and hated giving into it, he was going to have to make an exception. If only this once.

o

'_Where are you?'_ Gaara hissed mentally. His footsteps sounded in rapid but even intervals through the now empty hall, mutterings scattered between them.

'_What's wrong with me? It shouldn't be a big deal if you go off on your own every now and then; every needs that every now and then, but you didn't tell me? Goddamnit, why am I worrying this much? It's stupid to worry this much. It's probably annoying too, but I just want to find you. Why didn't you tell me where you-'_

"Gaara?"

Two steps and the shriek of rubber against the floor as the redhead stopped abruptly. Sakura peered at him, offering a smile.

"Hey… aren't you going to have lunch?"

He didn't answer directly, staring at her knees instead. "…was looking for Neji…" he murmured.

"Oh! I saw him!" She pulled a small purse from her locker and turned to him again. "He was down that hallway over there. I think he went into the art room."

'_Art room. That was obvious. Idiot.'_

"Oh. Thank you."

"No problem." She shrugged, carelessly, and he envied her for such an air.

There was a dryness in his mouth he could find no reasonable (not to his definition of the word, anyways) explanation for, counting silently the offbeats between his footsteps as he took off again.

o

Knees to her chest and her forehead to her knees, Tayuya leaned against the wall of the yellow brick wall of the upstairs girls' washroom. Beside her, a quick cartoon scribbled in Sharpie depicted their vice principal being crushed by a giant hairy foot, though it had worn away a bit with age, and a few names were scribbled beneath alongside various insults. The place was empty, save the three and the reflections that hovered in the mirror on the opposite wall.

"It's not fair!" Ukon exclaimed, looking around. "Your washrooms are _so_ much nicer than the guy's ones!"

Temari rolled her eyes. "You've been here before, Ukon."

"I know, but I still can't get over it…"

"Anyways." Temari sat down next to Tayuya. Her stomach loudly reminded her that she had only had half a breakfast that morning, but she ignored it. "So… Kimimaro wasn't at school today."

"He's coming Wednesday," Tayuya said, raising her head. "I think. I mean, he's on a lot of meds and shit, so he's somewhat healthy…"

"I see…," said Temari quietly. Through bits and pieces of information she had been fed by Ukon and Sakon she had managed to find out just about all of what had happened between Tayuya and Kimimaro, and Sakon. "Since he's coming to school… are we going to let a few people know? I mean, if he still looks sick, it's going to be hard to pretend that everything's fine."

"I dunno. Kin's already suspicious as Hell, so I guess sooner or later… Damn secrets; it's making me freaking paranoid all the time." Tayuya grumbled, then quieter, "I _hate_ this…"

Ukon, who had his back to the two girls and was staring out the small and only window in the wall, sighed lightly. "You and him are talking, then?"

She shrugged. "A little…"

Talking? Yeah, they were doing some of that. There had been a long time when they hadn't talked at all, though, not if you didn't count Tayuya's outburst. After Sakon and Ukon had confronted her about the whole affair, she had walked straight back to Kimimaro's house without a second thought whatsoever and walked right in. The words she had slung at him had even made her wince as she looked back on them. She had learned many a time just how dangerous her impulses could be, but she knew she would never learn. Besides shouting at someone just felt so good sometimes…

"_What the fuck is wrong with you?" she had screamed. "Are you intent on fucking everyone's lives up, or does it just come naturally to you, huh? You fucked Sakon, and didn't even tell me! You _cheated_ on me, and didn't think I would care? I'm not a shallow shit-for-brains, you ass, and I want a fucking explanation right now!"_

_The fact that he didn't even have a response made it worse. She wanted him to argue. She wanted to get out all the anger and despair in one go, but he insisted on making it difficult._

"_I don't give a shit that you're sick right now, that's your own fault! Are you even fucking listening to me? Are you _ever_ fucking listening to me?" Tayuya whipped the plastic bag with the movies she had rented in it, her respiration uneven. "Are you _trying_ to screw with my head…? Why won't you just give me an answer! Come on!"_

_At yet another silence, Tayuya screamed, released another slur of insults, and stomped out the door._

A few days later, he had phoned her, and apologized, and she had muttered something about not meaning what she had said in return. She wasn't sure if he meant it, but didn't ask, and after three minutes they ran out of things to say and she hurriedly hung up. It had left them in a state of limbo, not quite on one end of the spectrum and definitely not on the other.

At least some good had come during that time, though; both she and Sakon's test results had come back **negative**. Tayuya had never been so happy to fail a test before in her life.

"I hate to be nosy… well, that's a lie, I love being nosy," said Ukon, "but, uh… what terms are you guys on now?"

Temari watched as Tayuya rolled her neck back and then from side to side, glad that Ukon had asked before she ran out of patience and blurted out the question herself.

"Well…" Tayuya frowned. "It's goddamn fucked up, that's what it is, I guess. I mean… he cheated on me, but I can't just _hate_ his guts, just like that. It doesn't work like that. I miss him, of course. I'm still fucking worried, but… but right now, I don't want to be _with_ him." She shook her head, not bothering to do anything about the thick strands of orange hair that fell into her face. "There's just too much shit in the way to go back to being lovers now. Not that we can anyways…"

Temari put a hand over Tayuya's, warm in contrast to the cold and dirty floor. "I think you shouldn't talk to him for a while, or even be near him. Think of what he did, Tayuya-chan… you don't deserve that."

"Yeah, but…"

"Yabbit's a rabbit with short ears," Ukon mumbled and gave an offbeat chuckle. Both girls gave him weird looks, to which he blushed and explained, "Sorry, my mum always says that to me and Sakon… Anyways, I kinda disagree with you, Tema-chan."

"Eh? Really?"

Ukon turned around to face them, hands stuffed deeply into the pockets of his jacket. "Maybe things will work out; you can't just assume it's doomed. I mean, that's part of love and friendship, isn't it? Forgiving mistakes and all that?"

"You're such a sap, Ukon-chan," Temari snorted.

"And so what if I am?" he crossed his arms, feigning offence taken. "Anyway, it's Tayuya's decision, right?"

Sighing, Tayuya pushed herself to her feet, rocking forwards onto the balls of her feet. "That's right. It is, and… I still don't fucking know. I'll think about it, or just wait and see what happens when I see him again. I don't feel like fucking it up more than it already is, or getting him mad at me. I really, _really_ don't want him to die mad at me…"

"Tayuya-chan…" Temari reached forwards for Tayuya again.

"No." Tayuya shook her head. "I'm okay. I can deal."

"If you're sure…."

"Leave her, Temari-chan," Ukon said. "She's Tayuya, remember? If she says she's fine, she's fine. We all handle things in our own different ways."

Still looking unsure, Temari withdrew. "Alright… But I still-"

"_H-hey!_"

All three turned to the doorway, where a petite preppy-looking girl stood, pointing and staring at Ukon incredulously.

"You're a guy!"

Ukon stared back at her a second before he looked down at himself, padding his chest as if searching for breasts. "Wow!" he exclaimed. "You know what, you're right! I AM a guy! I never noticed before! Thanks for pointing it out, little girl, I guess I'll be going now."

Rolling his eyes, he brushed past the girl, and Temari and Tayuya followed close behind as they walked out into the hall.

"Some people…" he muttered. "Oh, and don't worry so much Tayuya. I know this is frank, but with meds Kimimaro can still live for a long time. _Trust me_," he said as Temari shot him a look, "I did my research. It can be okay."

Temari nodded, trying not to notice how even Ukon's voice seemed a little less sure than usual and the way Tayuya walked slowly, her head hung slightly as if her neck had decided to give way on her. Almost a death march, and it was the 'almost' that saved them.

o

Gaara held the photograph carefully, pressing the flesh of his fingertips against the edges to avoid smudging the image with fingerprints. The hallway outside the art room was empty, giving them a sort of privacy that wasn't very private at all.

"This is…"

"For you." Neji answered shortly. "The second part of you Christmas gift. It took a while because it was on a half-finished roll of film I took with my on vacation and this is the only dark room I have access to, so…"

"Thank you," Gaara murmured. He had found Neji just as the brunette was coming out of the art room, a folder full of prints he had made that morning before school in hand. There were beautiful things; pictures of buildings with balconies and ironwork gates, a woman in red with a cigarette dangling from her lips, an off-centre portrait of an old looking window…

And then there was the one Gaara was holding. It was a somewhat simple picture, and Gaara remembered the exact moment Neji had taken it; how he had held the camera out before them at arm's length and watched, vaguely amused, while Gaara panicked as his finger moved to push the shutter and capture their image.

"I don't deserve this." The words slipped from Gaara's mouth, almost subconsciously and without effort.

Neji gave him a look. "What?"

"I really don't," continued Gaara. "I'm sorry."

"But you really don't have anything to be…" The Hyuuga put a steadying hand on Gaara's shoulder. "Are you alright?"

For a while, Gaara was quiet. "Yes," he said after a while. "I'm just… not right today…"

'Not right': as in panicky and jittery and the world suddenly seemed vividly full of things he did wrong. That kind of not right. The kind that ran like a chain of dominoes, one thing leading to another to another, until you'd knocked them all down.

"Any reason?" asked Neji.

"N-no."

"Gaara."

"_Really_." Gaara smiled. He knew his part well, having acted out the scene many times before with various people. Even he didn't know why, but some days he would just slip into it and be unable to get out for a while. Sure, those pretty blue pills muted it a bit, but that kind of 'not right' still dragged him down. He knew it so well, that kind of not right that made it hurt like Hell to lie like that, and hurt even worse to admit it…

(again and again and again)

And Neji's hand was there, bringing him closer despite their surroundings. Gaara didn't mind, accepting the movement though he could hear noise; far-off or maybe just muffled, or maybe he wasn't listening too hard. His eyes were closed, then, as he heard the voice. He recognized it, but couldn't recall a face, and didn't want to. A boy, their age. Smirking.

"Great. Just what we need. More fags."

And again, he panicked, feeling Neji's hand clamp down on his wrist tightly.

"Fuck off," Neji hissed to the boy.

Gaara still had his eyes closed, but he could hear a snort, laughter. Just one set of footsteps, luckily, walking away from them.

_Not this, not now._

Another domino.

end chapter 25


	26. Vacancy and Recovery Patience

_**Carousel**_

Chapter 26: Vacancies and Recovery Patience

Apologies for what a freaking long time this took; I had to do a third plot rewrite as to the fic's ending. As usual, thank you for sticking with me; you help to make it worthwhile and encourage me along!

(I disclaim.)

_I can't throw away my fears  
Up into the atmosphere  
They race away at the rate  
Of the smoke and rust_

- from Sarah Harmer's 'Every Time'. (1)

o

He remembers…

_The walls were a piteous white, their glare constant and unrelenting with a brightness that seemed to make his eyes smoulder and ache. He couldn't feel much, but his wrists were tight and sore, stinging (pinpricks left from their attempts to sew him back together again; a tattered doll all worn from play). There was ice trickling slowly through his veins, like the miniature streams created from the melting of snow-mounds in spring._

_(A fresh sort of cold; a cold sort of clean; like all that dirt from _before_ had all been washed away…)_

_Even though he could hear noise, coming from somewhere beyond those milky walls, it was only vague and intangible in comparison to the raging silence that held him prisoner. It pulsed as if alive; coming in, then out, wavering and fading before rushing back strong…_

_Time seemed to pass slowly, hours coming and going within a single blink of the eye. The walls stayed the same the entire time, though some things changed (people came, he realized, splotches of blurred colour that never stayed long and never said much). He was scared at first, but after a while, he began to like it a little bit. He wasn't sure how he got there, but there was no yelling and screaming, only stillness, and he could sleep all he wanted. Sometimes pain burst through his limbs and from deep in his chest in flashes, but they always faded quickly and was never very much compared to what he seemed to know._

_("Is this death?" he wondered once, but decided it didn't matter.)_

_And then something slipped, just something little, and it all came crashing down onto him like a mudslide that dirtied the whiteness he had grown accustomed to. The ache started again, the fear, the guilt, and time began slowing down…_

_("Is this rebirth?")_

_And suddenly the colours had faces and those faces had names; names that he knew, pushing them from his throat in desperation. No one was listening; not even the nurse that came once a day to clean and bandage the large red gashes on his wrists, not quite healed over with rough scabs. Everything about the room started to make him itch, made him frantic for any sort of way out._

_But there was none. His only exit had proven faulty, after all. So what was there left?_

_("Hope," she had whispered, but there was none at all and all three knew it.)_

_There were only the walls, still white and without sympathy as time dragged them along…_

'It was a long time ago,' he thought, caressing his wrist. 'Things can be different now…'

_(One wrong step, and so easily, everything can come tumbling down…)_

o

"You've _got_ to be kidding me."

"Nope, they seem completely serious."

"Just… just kill me now, alright? Get it over with, please. End the agony!" Ukon rolled his eyes up into his head to expose the whites and made exaggerated stabbing motions at his chest, though he stopped abruptly as he saw the conspiring look Sakon was giving him.

"I-I was just kidding, you know? I didn't actually mean that-"

"I _know_," Sakon said with a devious smirk as he crossed his arms over his chest. "I was just… entertaining the thought."

Temari snickered behind her hand at the display, and Kankurou rolled his eyes as the twins' mock bickering continued. Where a month or so before there had been a sort of awkwardness between them that left gaping holes in conversation and offered no explanation, there was now a closeness between them Tayuya claimed they hadn't had since they were kids in elementary school. In the past week alone, the duo had managed to scare a grade nine girl (how they wouldn't disclose, only that she had moved her locker to the other end of the school after the incident), and build a sculpture of Kankurou out of French fries, among other things.

It was quite a relief, really. The ease their light-hearted interactions brought seemed to settle things, as if behind the scenes, all the problems had fixed themselves with a certain amount of efficiency and things could only go up from that point on. Kankurou still didn't know just what it was that had been resolved or not, but Temari had taken up the habit of ignoring him if he dared bring it up.

"I mean, if I actually was going to kill you, you would never see it coming," Sakon continued, sounding as if he had considered such things before.

Ukon looked appalled. "You think you could actually get away with it?"

"Oh, come on, all I'd have to do would be to slip a little something in your drink and you'd be done for. Mind you, that'd be a little boring so I'd have to make it an interesting poison. You know, one of those special ones that keeps you alive, but in mass amounts of pain while it eats away at your heart tissue until-"

The clearing of a throat caused Sakon to stop mid-sentence, and the group looked up to the preppy girl that had interrupted a few minutes before.

"…so, I'm guessing you don't want tickets to our Valentines Day raffle? You can win gift certificates, and all profits go towards hiring a DJ for the dance next week." she tacked the end bit on hopefully, giving a rehearsed smile as if the cause hadn't already been lost and Tayuya weren't giving her a look that said she had the IQ of a dinner plate for even trying.

Ukon shook his head. "Sorry, hun, I'm broke. Now run along. Shoo!" He waved a hand jovially as if to dismiss her.

"Jesus, is it really Valentines already?" Kankurou asked once she had moved on to find some other victims, looking slightly troubled by this.

"Well, I'm not Christ but yeah, it's a week or two away. Right after our exams," Zaku answered, winking. "Why, you got your eye on a pretty girl to romance or somethin'?"

"N-no!"

"Oh come on, nothing to be ashamed of…"

'Already February? Shit, the days go by way too fucking fast these days…' Tayuya thought to herself, her mind wandering away from the conversation. It felt like time was playing tricks on her sometimes. For such a long time, all she had longed for was just to get out of high school for good and get her freedom, and now, graduation was only a matter of months away and she didn't have to wish so hard. More importantly, she didn't want to wish for it anymore. It was more and more often that she had to stop herself when she started rushing through her days and slow herself down, trying and soak in as much as she could handle. All of a sudden, she felt that she didn't have enough memories, that she had wasted too much time. Soon that part of her life would be gone, and there was no way to get it back or to try it again.

Looking back on herself, Tayuya often felt stupid for taking things for granted. Especially now.

She felt her breath catch involuntarily as her aimless eyes fell over the far end of the hallway, quickly recognizing the lone figure even from such a distance. Screaming at her were all those little details she found had surprising familiarity, forcing her to remember while she continued to hold her stare.

'Kimimaro…'

It had been a while since she had talked to him, or since any of them had talked to him. Her plan to wait until she felt comfortable talking to him, as these days she could barely look at him. It was like the were strangers all over again or something, and the days they had been together had slipped from existence and memory. These days, he was coming and going from classes like the ghost he was beginning to resemble, with hardly word or presence. (And oh, how the fluorescent light made him look so pale, so harsh on her eyes and conscience…)

Everyone had an unspoken understanding that they simply weren't together anymore. Had they broken up? She herself wasn't sure. It was more like there was a vacant space between them, and neither was willing to try to fill it.

When she went back through their memories, she often just ended up feeling bitter. He was sick, yes, and he was dying albeit slowly, but there was just nothing that could be done for it. It was over, it was done. She had to hurry up and stop worrying about things that were no concern of hers and get on with her life while she still had it.

"What do you think, Tayuya-chan?"

'It was his fucking fault, anyways… wasn't it?'

"Hm?" She turned her head, the gaze she had been close to sharing broken all too quickly. "Sorry, I kinda drifted off…"

"No kidding," Sakon said, and the conversation picked up where it left off, but with Tayuya included this time around. She made sure she laughed as much as she could for the fifteen minutes they had remaining that lunch hour, and she committed each syllable spoken to memory, trying to ignore the sense of dissatisfaction she felt creeping in.

She just had to try a little harder and make it mean something.

She owed him that much, didn't she?

o

"Jeez, Lee, are you trying to memorize that thing or something?" Naruto remarked, prodding Lee with a plastic fork. The large eye-browed boy was bent over a copy of Romeo and Juliet, his face so close to the pages it was a surprise he could read that way.

"I'm learning the ways of romance from the masters," Lee announced jubilantly, still without bringing his head up from the book. "Just like Gai-sensei told us! Shakespeare was a _genius_ of love!"

Naruto spluttered a laugh, and adjacent him, Kiba began reciting in falsetto: "Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou, Romeo? Bahaha!"

Across from them, Sasuke snorted. "Are you _kidding_ me? Romeo and Juliet was pure drivel. Two idiots in puppy love who spend the entire book whining about it with extensive and cheesy metaphors. And then they DIE. Not exactly my definition of a good book. Really, they were doomed from the start…"

"Oh, what would you know Sasuke?" Naruto joked, and the Uchiha smiled a bit before putting his earphones back on, ignoring protests from Lee ("W-what? They _die_?"). From beside him, Gaara could hear the metal Sasuke was blaring leaking out, all scraping guitars and fast-paced drumbeats. It was violent music; music that covered up all your thoughts and replaced them with sweetly numbing distortion; music that kept all the other sounds and voices around you from reaching your ears. _Lovely noise._

"I don't really give a crap," Naruto said, twirling ramen on the fork. "I just wish Gai-sensei didn't read it so…"

"Passionately?" Kiba suggested, raising his eyebrows.

Naruto laughed. "Pretty much, yeah."

Neji rolled his eyes. "What do you wanna bet he'll start crying by the end of it?"

"My God, he will too…"

Sasuke's fingers began drumming against the table; a quiet rhythm that sang to itself about all kinds of secrets.

The cafeteria was just as loud as it was any other day, but _that_ certain day it seemed worse to Gaara for whatever reason it did. Every single voice that battered his brain made him a little more paranoid, trying to keep his eyes concentrated on the grain of the table – as if it would make a difference. His head was aching. At that moment, he wanted to be anywhere but where he was, anywhere at all…

Gaara felt Neji's hand cover his where it rested on his leg, spreading warm and wide over his thigh.

"Ignore them," he murmured, just loud enough so that Gaara could hear it despite the strained way it came out. As usual, he knew just what was on the redhead's mind.

The redhead kept his eyes on the table. Maybe, he thought, maybe he was just making a big deal out of nothing again, and maybe his ears weren't hearing things right, and maybe his eyes were playing tricks on him. But suggesting such things didn't change the fact that he still caught glares being thrown his way in the halls and in the cafeteria, and the vulgar words spewed out so casually. There were more than usual, more whispers and words thrown about like itty bitty knives poking into him all over. Little pricks, but it was much more than enough to cause discomfort and torment.

"What do they matter? They shouldn't; there's no reason to care whether they agree with us or not," Neji said, though he had told Gaara the same thing several times before and hoped that this time Gaara might come a little closer to fully believing it.

Everyone knew now, though some had suspected already. Most people, it seemed, were fine with it; Sakura had squealed fangirlishly when she first caught them holding hands (secret's out, they figured, no need to hide it any more) and Naruto had congratulated them, joking amiably about it as he did.

But there always would be those other people, the type that just found such things unacceptable and went out of their way to make their stance known. People like the boy who had caught them that one day – it was a few weeks ago, now – and had since tried to provoke both as often as he could. Some days, it was all Gaara could do not to jam his pencil through the boy's forehead (but no need for a repeat incident of the last time someone had crossed him, no…).

"Can we," said Gaara, "go somewhere else?" Then under his breath, a trail of discontinued thought: "I swear…"

Neji nodded, picking up their lunch trays (both barely touched) and gave the rest of the group they were sitting with a succinct 'Good-bye' before following Gaara out.

"Where to?" he asked, and Gaara shrugged irritably.

"Anywhere, I guess." He glanced briefly at his leftover meal. "Just dump it; I'm not hungry."

Neji, not nearly in the mood to insist that Gaara eat at least a little more before they left, let their food slide into the trash and abandoned the trays atop the bin, increasing his stride so that he could keep up with Gaara's tense and hurried one. The hallway was empty, per usual, allowing the sound of mismatched footsteps to reign in its faint, metallic echoes.

"Gaara," started Neji, a bit surprised when Gaara's step kept its pace.

"Look, don't get them get to you…"

"It's not just _that_," Gaara snapped instantly, though immediately after he heard the words come out, he pulled himself inwards in a full-bodied wince.

"I just…" his feet slowed to a stop then, and from behind him, Neji noticed with a reassuring familiarity that Gaara had started doing that little head movement he always did when he was unsure about things.

Gaara shook his head. "I'm just _bothered_ that I can't do anything about it. That's all."

Sighing restlessly, Gaara turned and let his body fall back until it hit the lockers behind him, then slid down until he was in a crouch. Neji came to sit beside him, scanning Gaara's distraught visage as he settled down onto his knees despite the rather dirty state of the floor.

"I see," Neji said softly, watching as Gaara's hands knitted anxiously with one another, struggling to restrain each other as the redhead tried to sort out his thoughts.

"But don't you feel it too, sometimes?" Gaara asked, his thin voice nearing desperation. "I mean, it all just seems… so useless, so pointless. So helpless. I don't know how to put it, but… these days, it just seems nothing will ever work out _right_. No, that's not it at all. I'm trying to say that… Oh, I can't word it properly. God damn it."

His fingers tightened, squeezing as if to strangle each other as his thumbs slipped down to make quick (harmless) passes at his wrists. The frustration kept building and building, but anything tangible evaded him.

"I… _here_." Neji leaned in closer to Gaara, offering a shoulder and a look of attempted and wanted understanding. The redhead looked up at him, and Neji was surprised for a moment at how distanced he looked just then, with those green eyes opened wide but nearly vacant. It was like a part of the redhead had disappeared without Neji noticing the slow decadence until it was almost mockingly blatant. It was impossible of course, the Hyuuga decided, but he was nonetheless relieved as Gaara eagerly let his temple rest against the offered shoulder and his hands began to still. And there was warmth that was theirs and only theirs (as always), heartbeats echoing through the spaces in between…

"Just try not to think about it so much," Neji tried, pressing his cheek against the top of Gaara's head. With that touch, there was more reassurance; more reassurance that Gaara was there with him and not slipping away.

"I know, but I…."

His lips stopped abruptly then, pressing against one another as if to keep the words inside. Again, his pale, thin-knuckled fingers had begun their movements. Shaking, tense, deliberate…

Gaara closed his eyes, trying to stop himself from thinking it (yes, yes he was doing it again). When he tried to control his trembling it only grew worse, and the knots his stomach had tied themselves into tightened. As much as he cared for Neji – the one thing he never let himself doubt – he could feel himself moving to rely on the brunette more and more and it troubled him a little. He felt _weak_, and he felt _pathetic_; all those things he was trying to escape being again. It wasn't right for Neji to have to comfort him so much, and the more he went over it inside his head, the more it seemed like his fault. And there was guilt, guilt, _guilt_…

"Do you ever…" (fingers jerking, pleading) "…think that maybe they… that we aren't supposed to be toge-gether, or…"

The syllables died in a choke, extinguished completely as he felt Neji's hands seize his and halt their movements. His fingers fell slack, even though his insides were on overdrive. Sheer panic reigned as his stomach seemed to double in weight.

_(Shit shit shit, shouldn't have said that!) _

"Gaara…"

_(Why do you always…)_

"Come on." He felt Neji's shoulder shift a little, as if the Hyuuga were trying to get a little better look at him.

Turning his face to press closer into Neji's flesh, he murmured, "I didn't mean it."

_(Don't leave me, I need you, I couldn't bare to destroy this, not this, not this!)_

"Gaara."

"_I'm sorry_."

The touch of one of the Hyuuga's hands lessened, as if a precursor to its drawing away a few seconds later – there were three heartbeats of panic on Gaara's part in this intermission – and lodging itself in Gaara's hair, thumb sneaking down to brush the redhead's cheek. It was a tragic sort of embrace, hardly bearable as Gaara waited for him to speak.

"I didn't mean it," he repeated, though it hardly seemed like enough. And then…

Was Neji shaking?

His eyes opened, blurred vision filled with strands of dark chocolate hair and a tilted rendition of the hallway. Despite the urge to just curl up into Neji's body and be safe, he stayed the way he was, perhaps out of fear. However, he soon felt Neji drawing him closer and he indulged himself fully. Hoping…

"Gaara." Neji's fingers were in his hair, twisting a few strands as he inhaled. "If it feels wrong to you-"

"It's not that," Gaara said urgently. "I promise. It's not you. It could be everything, but it would _never_ be you."

And he became aware that it was the complete truth.

"As long as you're happy…" Neji murmured. He could feel the cold metal of his locker against the back of his neck as Gaara's hands began again, but this time they moved without doubt, fluid in Neji's palms. The head on his shoulder lifted just enough to bring lips to touch his jawbone. It was amazing just how good that relief felt as it enveloped them ('Oh, heavy lightness…') (2), and all doubt seemed ridiculous in its presence. Gaara inhaled, feeling Neji's hand hovering about his neck.

"I am."

'Or I'll try.'

"I just feel bad when I… rely on you for things like this."

"Don't. I think I like it when you rely on me."

Gaara realized then that even if the hallway had been full of people, at that moment, he wouldn't have cared at all.

'If only it could be this way all the time…'

And maybe it was foolishness, but it felt that right.

o

"What do you think?"

Shikamaru shrugged, lazily focusing his eyes Temari's lower lip.

"I don't know," he said. "I'm not exactly an expert on the aesthetics of facial piercings."

"Oh come on." She pouted a little, exaggerating the ring that had been put through her lip just a half hour before. It was a slightly whimsical decision on Temari's part, and perhaps irrational and childish, but she was pleased with the outcome. What had brought it on she wasn't entirely sure, but the past few mornings when she had been fixing herself up in the mirror, it was all she could think about it. She kept picturing it – a little slice of silver cutting across the soft pink of her lower lip – until her mind had become set to have it done.

It was by pure luck she ran into Shikamaru that day after school, and on another whim (Temari had learned to trust her gut by that time; it seemed to know the right thing to do), she had decided to drag him along with her. And having 'nothing better to do', he let her.

_Temari handed the ring to the young woman with bright blue hair and a nametag reading 'Tiffany', who quickly sterilized it and began readying the needle. Temari leaned back in her chair, trying to focus her eyes somewhere else. Not that there was much to look at, besides a half-decent paint job and a few crookedly hung posters for 80's punk bands. The place wasn't exactly the most high-class, as Shikamaru had remarked on their way in, but it was the only tattoo/piercing parlour in Konoha and Temari had decided she liked it immediately upon entering._

_Sighing, Shikamaru leaned back against the wall._

"_You sure about this?" he asked, still unconvinced, and she gave a short nod._

"_Definitely." Temari fingered her lip. "What self-respecting girl doesn't want a lip ring?"_

_He shook his head, but she could see that he was smiling._

"_Alright," Tiffany said, turning back to them. "I hope you're comfortable and have a decent amount of pain tolerance, miss. Now, I need you to let your jaw go slack and loosen the muscles all up. You used the water I gave you to wash your mouth out with, right?"_

"_Yes ma'am," Temari answered, feeling a little bit of nervousness start to grow in her stomach, though perhaps it was anticipation. Her fingers clutched at her knees as Tiffany first rubbed alcohol just below Temari's lip, and then some cream. "To numb it," Tiffany explained, handing Temari a bowl._

"_What's the bowl for?" she asked, able to feel her lower lip begin to loose feeling. Well, that certainly was nifty…_

_The aqua-haired woman smiled in a way that just screamed 'Damn, I love my job'._

"_The bowl is for the blood, dear."_

And it had bled quite a bit, but not as much as Temari was expecting. Besides, the numbing cream had lessened the pain, and Temari liked the look of it more than she had thought she would. It suited her, she thought, though she knew Kankurou would freak out at her when she arrived home that night. Not that she was planning on going home anytime soon; she and Shikamaru had settled down once more in a café. Sounds of a soft female voice and acoustic guitar hovered beneath the clinking of glasses and conversation that filled the room like a soundtrack to life, and the situation had an odd amount of ease about it and between them.

"It looks fine, I guess," Shikamaru admitted after a bit more of Temari's pestering. "You really didn't need to squeeze my hand so damn hard when she put in the needle, though."

"Wimp," Temari said.

He shook his head. "Going through pain solely for aesthetics just seems so-"

"Troublesome?"

"Well, yeah." He smirked, the leaned forwards to sip at his coffee. "Besides," he added, "It seems somewhat impractical for activities like talking, or eating, or… other things."

"I can talk and eat just fine with it," Temari told him. "But what do you mean, other things?"

Shikamaru shrugged a little. "Well, things like-"

"Kissing?"

He raised an eyebrow, the thin line of his mouth twisting in amusement. "You're never going to find out if you keep trying to finish my sentences for me."

But Temari wasn't really listening to him at that point, no, because her mind had birthed an idea of the most devious and capricious kind. She shifted to the edge of her seat, pausing for a second as her mind questioned it's own impulses, but she quickly decided that she was on a lucky streak in terms of her impulses and she might as well go for it.

"Would you like to find out?"

"What?"

Temari leaned over and across the small white candles sitting in the middle of the rosewood table, skinny black wicks cold and unlit, until the distance between her face and Shikamaru's was small, and she could see fine baby-hairs that had escaped his ponytail hovering about his ears. He didn't look surprised, she found, but realized she should have expected that as her dangerously grinning lips found his, and a slice of metal became pressed pleasantly between them.

End Chapter 26

(1) – I've found two contradictory versions of the lyrics, one with _can't_ and one with _can_, and I don't have the lyric book that came with the CD anymore. I chose _can't_ because to me, that's what it sounds like in the song (which you should listen to, because Sarah Harmer is just wonderful).

Her music was also intended as the music played in the café (just like it is in a coffeehouse in my hometown).

(2) – 'Oh heavy lightness'. I am fairly certain this was said in the beginning of Romeo and Juliet, but of course, I wasn't paying much attention that day in English class when he discussed the overuse of oxymorons by a romantically desperate Romeo, so I may be mistaken.


	27. Carpe Diem

**Carousel**

Chapter 27: Carpe Diem

AN: I know this may come as a bit of a surprise, but **this is the last chapter**. I simply don't have the inspiration or interest to come up with another small arc for this, and I'm confident this is the right place to end. **Thank you to everyone** who has reviewed; you've definitely helped me improve along the way, and I've made some good friends too. I had mentioned a sequel (that wouldn't really be a sequel now, so much as a 'what if' scenario of a mini-fic), and if I have time, it might see the light of day, but probably not.

As usual, all original poetry is mine. Enjoy!

I disclaim

o

_Colour,  
slipping and sliding through  
my fingers  
(over my skin and  
aching bones)._

_It seems bright,  
almost blinding but  
my eyes flitter (flutter)  
and adjust  
to this new light._

_There is  
vibrancy  
and a sort of warmth  
seeping in,  
in hues and tones  
(of you)._

_I cup in my hands  
a reason_  
– _brimming –  
and hope it never spills._

o

"It's about time you got up."

The sound of coffee dripping sharply from the filter filled the kitchen, along with the sound of Itachi's rapid pen scrawls. Sasuke wiped a bit of dust from the corner of his eye, trying to blink the image clear, details having become hazy and almost alike to liquid in the morning light pouring in the window over the sink. There were pieces of paper and textbooks spread out over the kitchen counter still; Itachi had been working there when Sasuke had gotten home the night before and appeared to have been working there for the majority of the night.

"What time is it?" the younger mumbled.

"Almost noon," Itachi told him, frantically flipping through a textbook. "Want some coffee? I think it's about done…"

"God, yes."

The exchange was short – quiet and perhaps cautious – but not in the least empty. It was comfortable, welcoming in its own quiet way. It suited them somewhat, much better than the bitter shouting matches and overwhelming barrages of silence ever did, at least. Itachi watched Sasuke from the corner of his eye as he stumbled towards the coffee maker. Some days, he was still a bit surprised that Sasuke ever spoke to him at all after years of acrimony between them.

"Hey, you wan' some?" Sasuke asked, his speech still handicapped by lethargy.

Itachi shook his head. "I'm fine."

"Suit yourself…."

Mug pressed between his hands, Sasuke leaned forwards over the sink (still cluttered with unwashed dishes) to rest his elbows on the edge of the windowsill. He sipped his drink slowly, looking out over the streets just five storeys below him. It was the first Sunday in May, now. All the snow had melted a few weeks earlier to give way to the cool spring weather typical of Konoha, though the sun was strong and balanced out the breezes and gentle rain-showers. Grass had turned from a dull yellow to a fresh and vibrant green, while small leaves were dressing the previously bare branches of the small trees lining the streets. Spring had taken over completely.

"Itachi?"

"Yes?"

"I was…," Sasuke started, but paused before beginning again. His fingernails tapped against his mug restlessly. "Is it alright if Naruto comes over a bit later?"

"Sure," said Itachi. "I'll probably be working on my essay for most of the day… oh, well Kisame and I are going out later, but… yeah, that'll be fine."

Sasuke nodded, and it was left at that. Itachi had no mind to ask for anything for than what Sasuke had given him, not wanting to accidentally push beyond the sketchy boundaries set in place between them despite his curiosity surrounding his brother's relationships with the blonde. For a long time, Sasuke hadn't mentioned him at all, but a week ago, it seemed that things had suddenly returned to the way they were before between the two.

And twice now, Itachi had caught Sasuke smiling to himself. But he knew better than to say anything.

o

Halfway across the city, another set of siblings were enjoying the renewed spirit and ease offered by spring. A pair of slim legs – skin unveiled by a baggy pair of denim shorts – hung down from a low-hanging tree branch of the small park, the majority of the owner's body obscured by leaves and branches unless one looked up from underneath, as her brothers were doing, in which case you could see Temari quite clearly.

"Sure takes a long time to get warm here," Kankurou muttered, glancing at Gaara, who leaned against the dark wooded tree-trunk. Kaleidoscope patterns of light and shadow covered his form, odd shapes cast by the leaves above. His alabaster eyelids had fallen closed, and his head was tilted a little to the side as if he had fallen asleep there, pieces hair swept messily over his forehead by the wind.

"Aren't you cold?"

Gaara's statuesque appearance broke for a second as his eyes flickered open and he shrugged nonchalantly in response.

"Don't be a wimp, Kankurou," Temari's voice came teasingly from above them.

Kankurou scowled. "I'm not a _wimp_. It's just a Hell of a lot warmer in Suna this time of year."

"I'd rather be here than _there_," Gaara put in (slightly bitter, a staccato cadence) and his siblings were silent in their agreement. It seemed, sometimes, that an incredibly long time had passed since they first moved to Konoha – though truly it wasn't even a year yet – but even so, traces of their life in Suna would always remain; small, persistent habits and memories that they knew would always remain. However, time was constantly moving forward and would continue on, regardless of whether they wanted it to or not. It did feel strange to think about it; the people they had been and the people they were now, and the gaping distances in between the two, but most changes had ultimately been for the best. None of them could imagine life any other way.

"What time is it?" the redhead asked aloud then, hints of concern peppering his tone.

"Don't worry," Kankurou commented, dismissing his brother's small anxiety. "There's still about five minutes until your boyfriend's supposed to come, so he's not late yet. But hey, speaking of boyfriends…"

He tilted his head back to look up at what he could see of Temari, raising his eyebrows.

She glared right back down at him, hands gripping the branch she sat upon tightly in case she were to lose her balance. "Whatever you're going to ask about Shikamaru, Kankurou, it's none of your business."

"Who said I was going to ask about you? Jeez, self-centered much?" Kankurou shot back. "But hey, I was just wondering how your little double-date thing went last night. And how are Tayuya and Kimimaro doing? I never see them anymore."

A jovial smile spread over Temari's face, though she quickly stifled it.

"It went okay, I guess," she answered. She fixed her grip on the branch and in one quick motion, let herself slide off the branch so that she hung in mid-air, swinging back in forth.

"I mean, Tayuya and Shikamaru pick fights with each other sometimes, but I think they get along okay," she said, adjusting her grip. "And Kimimaro is… well, he's doing alright. His aunt's got him on the best meds they can afford – which are pretty good – and you should see Tayuya…" Temari laughed quietly to herself. "She's gotten _really_ protective of him, and insists on disinfecting everything for him."

"You know, I only ever really got the gist of the situation from Ukon… the sickness and all," said Kankurou. "How did those two get back together again anyways? I thought she was completely pissed."

"Well, you know how impulsive Tayuya can be. One day last month she just got the idea in her head that there no point in moping over it and being angry with him when she had limited time left to spend with him, so she dragged him out for lunch one day. Might as well make the best of the situation, right? Besides," Temari's expression grew slightly wistful, "he didn't get… that sickness behind her back while they were dating. Kimimaro _swore_ that he only cheated on her that one time, and never again."

"I'm guessing you think that's _romantic_?" Kankurou remarked, ducking as Temari threw one of her legs forward in attempt to kick him.

"Shut up, Kankurou!"

"You and your silly girl poetry nonsense…" he muttered.

Temari ignored him this time, the muscles in her hands sore and close to reach their breaking point as she released her fingers and let gravity suck her back down to earth. A little unsteady in her landing, she soon righted herself and had commenced shaking out her hands to try to rid them of cramps when an approaching figure caught her eye.

"Hey, Gaara," she called to the inattentive redhead. "Neji's here."

Her brother perked up at once. His posture quickly corrected itself, as his body had settled into a slump against the tree while he was drifting in and out of thought.

And indeed, he could see the Hyuuga's figure stepping off the sidewalk and onto the grass, hands casually placed in the pockets of his jeans. Per usual, his hair was tied back at the nape of neck to hang freely down his back, and Gaara could see a camera dangling from thin black straps about his neck, swaying back and forth against his chest as he moved. Neji's pale eyes darted up from the ground, quickly finding and meeting Gaara's own (a small jolt ran through him from the contact, delightfully), and he gave a short nod in greeting.

"Well?" Temari asked, observing her youngest brother's expression with an amused grin. "Don't just sit here; go to him!"

A subtle tint of rose ran across Gaara's cheeks, but he lifted himself to his feet anyways and took Temari's advice. He tried not to walk too fast, but he couldn't help it; he wanted to rush forwards, to move as quickly as he could towards Neji. As they drew closer (and closer, and closer), the feeling only became stronger and more insistent, until finally Gaara felt Neji's arms close around his body in greeting, one arm looping under Gaara's arm to find his back while the other closed around his slender shoulders.

_Pressed together –  
warmth and warmth._

"Hey," Neji said in greeting, tilting his neck downwards a little, so that his mouth was very near to Gaara's ear (so near, yes, that his breath grazed Gaara's scalp; a familiar sensation, and a most welcome one at that). He withdrew a little, but the redhead realized almost immediately this was to allow room for a kiss. He let his eyes close trustingly, his lack of sight giving a small boost to his other senses. Touch became almost electrically sweet as he felt Neji's lips grace his own, pressing in strongly as if to confirm (though by this time, they both knew well just how _real_ it was).

Gaara knew people could see – his brother and sister, of course, but also the young mother of two that was watching her children takes turns on the slide and the older man out gardening on the lawn of the house closest to them. However, it just didn't _matter_ anymore. Any uncertainties had, for the most part, past him by and been abandoned. Let them stare, if they wanted. Let them hate him for who he was and what he did, if they so wished. He simply couldn't find any reason to care now, and was sure to return the bitter stares he caught with one of his own.

_There will always be doubts,  
and nightmares to shackle us,  
pull us down to tear at  
and choke us._

And it felt (unsurprisingly) refreshing and satisfying to have that confidence. Though he did still slip – and he knew he always would; it was one of those stains, you see, that would never quite leave but could be worked around if you tried – he was always able to recover, and come out of his bouts of depression. Besides, Neji had gotten rather good at snapping him out of them.

_Still,  
those figments and thoughts  
can't hurt you.  
_

_Not unless you let them._

There was also the fact that Neji himself was now completely free of any sort of drug addiction. It had taken a while, but he had managed to stop relying on it when he wanted to numb himself from anything plaguing his mind. He had become a little shut off about it though, often dodging the conversation topic with even Gaara and getting somewhat agitated if the subject was so much as mentioned. Although it was to be expected, as Gaara could tell Neji felt a certain amount of shame concerning the recklessness and naivety of his younger self.

_But we move on;  
as we need to,  
as we must._

A cool spring breeze filled the space between them as they parted temporarily. The sense of togetherness (trust and all those fine words – though so much more than words) did not leave them, though, hanging around them just as thickly as ever. _Together_, yes, two souls shared. It was _together_ that they were moving forwards, growing and changing, becoming stronger and more capable by the day. Mistakes are a trademark of the young, after all.

_Despite the past (and pain);  
we overcome,  
we conquer._

_And life will carry us on,  
regardless,  
turning around and around  
without pause;  
a carousel, shining. _

Behind him, Gaara could hear vaguely the sound of Temari's voice, lilting and hovering jubilantly in the air. Whether words or laughter he couldn't distinguish. No, his eyes were focused apprehensively on the lens of Neji's camera as he pulled Gaara close again and raised it with one hand. The sun was marvellous that day, casting long strips of brightness over everything.

_And illuminated,  
the world is alive with colour  
and your face  
of brilliant light._

_Smile for me,  
love._

"One would think," Gaara mumbled. "That you would have enough pictures of me by now…"

Neji's lips just twitched in vagueness of a grin, and the shutter snapped to capture their images as light created them. A moment memorized, and maintained forever. Even when the photograph would fade and distort with time, in their minds it would be just as vivid as that day. A keepsake, so they wouldn't forget. It was scary to think sometimes, that the moment you just lived through might slip to the back of your mind and be forgotten, and perhaps never retrieved. But this they would keep, yes, they would keep as many of them as they could, each one reminding them just _why_ they were still living.

_For what is your life  
if you are not living it?  
Or letting it rot and decay,  
and giving up your opportunities?  
For nothing._

_Is there any point to that?_

All in one moment that was theirs, and theirs alone.

_Take your chance  
while you still have it._

Gaara let his cheek press to the curve of Neji's defined neck, fearlessly.

"I do love you. You know that, right?"

**Fin**


End file.
